The Falling Stars 2: Partee Child
by k.e.williams515
Summary: After the events of the Falling Stars, Timothee Partee, the only child of Edouard and Christiane must face an uncertain world before him. He will begin a life he was not groomed for and find that magic is not as far away as he thought. Starting muggle school and making new friends are just the first steps in a journey that will take him to strange and new places.
1. Partee Child Part 1

Prologue

Three Hundred Meters

The orange glow of low hanging clouds over the city of Paris at night span in every direction as far as the eye could see. It had poured hours ago and the smell of summer rains still carried with the cool night breeze.

A jet black Peugeot 404 coupe slowed to a stop with its' wet brakes squeaking along the busy street of Avenue Gustave Eiffel. The sputtering engine fell silent as the yellow glow of the two round headlights died. The door swung open and a clean shaven man in a grey suit emerged. His straight hair was the color of night and as he walked his locks danced along the collar of his dress coat. His eyes were amber and they had a determined weariness about them as he craned his head back and gazed upon the Eiffel Tower before him. It was an impressive woven lattice of milk chocolate brown iron slats and solid iron beams that zigged and zagged, crissed and crossed, arched and buttressed all the way to the top.

"Magnifique," He whispered and continued on his way.

Pulling back the slate grey sleeve of his suit jacket, he exposed a scratched faced watch with a black leather band. Both large and small hands of his watch reached up towards a silver "XII" before he released his sleeve murmuring, "Minuit." Looking from his watch, he bumped shoulders with a young man with black hair and black robes.

The teen turned his head over his shoulder whispering, "pardon," and continued to walk down the street.

The man in the grey suit nodded, acknowledging the apologetic teen, and continued towards the tower. His brown leather shoes made a wet squishing sound with each stride as he crossed the Champ de Mars towards a small crowd that had gathered on the south edge of the tower.

There was a dark olive green pond in a small adjacent park that rippled and the leaves of a tall broad tree rustled under the sounds of traffic and low murmured voices.

Holding up his credentials in a black leather wallet, the man in the grey suit weaved his way through the crowd saying, "détective."

"Everyone reculés," A police officer ordered from the head of the crowd with his arms a stretch.

Finally making his way to the front of the crowd, the man in gray held up his credentials and said to the police officer, "Détective Francois Debussy."

The officer nodded and waved the detective through. He pointed towards a group of officers standing near a draped white blanket.

A detective wearing a baby blue button down with rolled up sleeves and black slacks saw Francois and waved him on.

Francois shook the detective's hand, "Olivier, a little late for you to be out here, no?"

The tired blue green eyes of Olivier met the gaze of his peer as he cracked a half smile. He scratched the blonde gruff on his chin before running his fingers through his dirty blonde hair, "I could say the same for you."

"What do we have here?" Francois asked.

Olivier knelt down and pulled back the white blanket just far enough for Francois to see, "Possible jumper, female, young, black hair, blue eyes, and no identification."

Francois gazed upon the lifeless form of the young woman in a black silk spaghetti strapped dress whose skin was the color of snow. Her hair was as dark as obsidian and her facial features were sharp and elegant. She looked so graceful even in her serene stillness, tranquil as her sapphire blue eyes seemed to gaze off into eternity.

Francois' transfixed fixation was broken by multiple camera flashes that snapped from the onlookers. Olivier looked at them and shouted, "Allez!"

Francois took a knee in the wet grass and examined the body, "Any witnesses?"

"A few down here and no one at the top," Olivier answered.

"Isn't it after hours?" Francois asked.

Olivier nodded.

Francois grazed the woman's cheek with his knuckle, "Elle a froid."

"Wi, very cold." Olivier added, "And no blood from the blunt trauma. Normally we see a little something from the nose, ears, mouth, eyes."

Francois looked to Olivier, "Wasn't this called in twenty minutes ago?"

"It was," Olivier confirmed.

Francois stood as Olivier released the white blanket which gracefully fell back over the deceased. Francois rubbed the back of his knuckle against his pants and looked towards the top of the Eiffel Tower which loomed over them, "Three hundred meters from up there to down here. What did the guard see?"

Olivier shook his head, "Rien. Said he was on normal patrol, didn't hear a thing."

"What about the witnesses?" Francois asked.

"Just the thud," Olivier said, "What are you thinking?"

Francois pointed his hands in a triangular shape, "The tower slopes outward like a pyramid so if you fall straight down you will hit the sides. The only way you land here on the grass is if you jump or if you are pushed. Since no one heard a scream, I would negate the possibility that the victim was pushed."

"So then I was right. She was a jumper," Olivier said.

Francois shook his head, "No."

"But you just said it yourself. Landed over here on the grass, no sound when she plummeted, she jumped." Olivier contested.

"No," Francois repeated.

Olivier scratched the scruffy yellow shadow growing on his cheeks and sighed in exacerbation, "Then what?"

"She was dumped," Francois said, "Maybe from the first platform or the second. It would have taken a lot more effort if she was thrown from the top."

"Dumped? How do you know that?" Olivier asked.

"I don't know for sure," Francois said, "But you said it yourself. No signs of bleeding, and the fact that I have never seen a body this cold in only twenty minutes. She was dead before she fell."

Olivier looked up at the iron structure that hovered over them like a Colossus, "Why dump a body at the Eiffel Tower? I mean with so many witnesses, it's not exactly subtle."

"Maybe they wanted people to see. Murder turned into a suicide or an accident," Olivier surmised, "Either way, that's where our trail begins."

Chapter 1

The Partée Child

A wizard sat in a plush leather chair, across from a finely decorated desk. His hair was black and long but showed signs of balding near the temples. He had thick bushy eyebrows with deep brown eyes like the fine wood of the desk he was sitting in front of. He wore a black robe with a gold fleur-de-lis over his heart.

"Monsieur Warlock, he is the son of Édouard and Christiane Partée, and the sole grandson to Javier Lafont. He deserves more from us than locking him away in some cell in Azkaban to go mad. If only for the service his family has done for our ministry."

A round man with a finely manicured white beard, sat reclined in his chair with a pouty look. He held an eleven inch Ebony wand in his hands, "Jean-Louis, spare me the histories. I am the Chief Warlock. Of course I know who that boy is."

Jean-Louis Bastion opened his hands as if to beg, "Then you must see my reason to let the boy go Monsieur Reynald."

Chief Warlock Reynald Geroux dropped the wand he had been thumbing in his hands as a stern expression grew on his face. Sitting forward in his black leather chair, his dark brown eyes seemed to have an intensity about them without the need for words.

Jean-Louis pleaded, "How do we know that he wanted to harm her?"

"Arrêtes!" Reynald shouted, standing from his chair. His tall black hat of authority made him tower over Jean-Louis. He grabbed the black Ebony wand from his desk and held it up for Jean-Louis to see, "This! I have seen these do terrible things in the wrong hands! Things that keep me up at night. Things that tear families apart and leave wives without husbands, husbands without wives and kids without parents."

"Yes, but a wand can do such wonderful things. It can heal pain, save lives Reynald. Surely you have not become so cynical in all your years," Jean-Louis contested.

"Jean-Louis we are at war! Giants, werewolves, witches, wizards and every creature in between. Last week I had a sixth year use the killing curse, the killing curse Jean-Louis! We cannot be so naïve. We cannot afford it."

Jean-Louis shook his head, "He's just a child."

"He's fourteen years old," Reynald said coldly.

"He's Just a child!" Jean-Louis replied.

"I have it in my very rights to walk back into that courtroom and send him to Azkaban with the rest of the dark wizards that have corrupted our world."

"But for his parents Reynald!"

"The Partées…" Reynald, whispered. The haunted look of past memories came over the Chief Warlock as he walked towards a painting in his office. It was a painting of an old wooden battleship, fighting the waves of a storm. A bolt of lightning streaked across the painting and vanished as the boat bobbed up and down with the tumultuous seas.

The Chief Warlock turned to his house elf who penned their every word with his golden quill, "Peu, this will be off the record. I will call for you."

The old wizened house elf with one grey eye looked up from his parchment and gave a nod. His voice was old and sullen, "Peu lives to serve his master," and with a snap of his fingers, he vanished.

Reynald turned to Jean-Louis, "What I am about to tell you does not leave my office, is that clear?"

Jean-Louis nodded, "Bien sur."

Reynald walked back to his desk and took a seat, "The night the Partée family died was no normal night. We were in joint operations with the British Ministry of Magic, trying to capture some escapees from Azkaban."

The look of shock was unmistakable as Jean-Louis couldn't help but blurt out, "No one has ever escaped from Azkaban! An escape would be in every newspaper! Everyone would know about it!"

"Exactly," Reynald countered, "And that is why this conversation does not leave this room."

Jean-Louis nodded with his mouth still slightly agape.

"Twelve years ago on this very night there was an escape from Azkaban. It was one of the earliest emergences of the group we now know as the Death Eaters. All the escapees were either dead or captured except for two and so the ministry figured there was no need to cause a panic. Do you know who escaped that night?"

"No," Jean-Louis said.

"Lestat Partée," Reynald explained, "Twin brother to Édouard Partée the Auror. The very same Édouard Partée who was missing when the ministry came looking for these criminals."

"You're not saying…"

Reynald's cold expression never wavered, "I am. And from all accounts from that night, it sounds like it was true. An Auror in our very own ministry was responsible for the breakout of dark wizards. He was probably a member of the Death Eaters and who knows what else. All I know is that when the ashes were settled and it was all over, Édouard, Christiane, Lestat and Javier were all dead."

"I didn't know," Jean-Louis muttered.

"And you still don't," Reynald insisted, "So when I see a boy in my courtroom accused of such a vile thing I cannot just turn a blind eye to it, especially when there is history in his blood, a dark history."

Jean-Louis licked his lips as he searched for an idea, a thought, anything that would make sense of this situation but nothing came to him, "What are you going to do?"

Chief Warlock Reynald Geroux looked down at the black eleven inch ebony wand in his hands before turning his gaze back to Jean-Louis Bastion.

_CRACK!_

Chapter 2

A Life in Pieces

_May 15, 1976_

Timothee Partée sat at the dinner table looking down at the two long broken halves of his black ebony wand. The beautiful dark wood was now in two five and a half inch pieces, tied together by an orange phoenix feather that had remained whole. Part shock and part disbelief, he looked down at what he could only describe as a great disgrace.

"C'est naus abond," An elderly witch sighed as she paced back and forth in a nervous step. She shook her head continuously in utter frustration, causing her silver locks of hair to bounce from side to side. She turned to her grandson and said, "You're lucky you didn't end up in Azkaban! If you're mother, your father, your grandfather weren't Aurors, I guarantee that is where you would have ended up tonight!"

Timothee ran both hands through his long black hair that had once been a dirty blonde. His dyed hair color created such a contrast to his skin that he looked pale and sickly. His brown and green eyes never looked away from the broken shards of his life.

Rene Lafont stared at her grandson, looking for any kind of response but was given no such satisfaction, "Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"

Timothee looked up from the wand, his brown and green eyes locking with his grandmother's. He was still growing into his tall lanky teenage body and his shoulders drooped as he sat hunched over with poor posture. He was tall for a fourteen year old with lots of growing still ahead. Timothee searched for the words, "They… they didn't let me speak."

"What is there to say?" Rene asked, "You used an unforgivable curse on a muggle!"

"It's not what it looked like," Timothee protested.

"You're an underage wizard Timothee, they knew what you had done the moment you casted it. Your magic is tracked my child. How did you think you would get away with it?"

"I wasn't trying to get away with anything," Timothee muttered.

Rene pulled out a glass and wordlessly casted, "Aguamenti" before she took a long sip. She placed the half empty glass onto the table before shaking her head in disbelief, "Kicked out after his third year. Your parents would be ashamed to know what you've become."

Timothee fired up from his chair and with one great swipe sent the halves of his wand flying across the kitchen. The wand shards clattered against the wooden cabinets before falling onto the white tiled floor. The green in his eyes lit up as he shouted, "Well thank Merlin they are dead then," and stormed upstairs towards his room.

Rene leaned back against the kitchen counter as she wiped a tear away from the soft wrinkles on her face. Her gaze fell upon a moving family portrait of herself, Christiane, Édouard, Javert and a newborn Timothee. The photograph was taken on the day they had brought Timothee home from St Garicoits. They looked happy as they waved towards the camera. Christiane seemed to smile through her exhaustion while Édouard grinned from ear to ear. Even the stoic Javert managed to crack a grin for the photo.

Those were better times, back when Timothee was an infant and their family was still alive. She didn't know what had happened that fateful night twelve years ago but her heart paid the price every day since.

She had tried her best to raise her grandson but it seemed like the more effort she put in, the farther away he would pull from her. His grades at Pursang were just barely passing and she was constantly receiving disciplinary letters from the headmaster. Her biggest fear was that he would get kicked out of Wizarding School but never in her darkest nightmares did she see her grandson performing an unforgivable curse on a muggle.

There was a war going on in the wizarding world. Wizards and witches were vanishing everyday as a Dark Lord fought to claim power. Had her grandson gotten caught up in this terrible conflict? She had hoped that staying in school would have sheltered Timothee from the horrors of the outside world.

"Did I fail you?" Rene asked as she looked at the family picture. A tear slowly fell down her tired cheek and ran down the line of her jaw before dripping down from her chin.

With his black dyed hair and completely black wardrobe, Rene was starting to fear that her grandson had turned to the "Dark Arts." He was disappearing each night and when she confronted him about it, he claimed that he was only going for long walks in the city.

"If only you were still here," She whispered, as she looked at the tall prominent figure of her deceased husband, Javert, "I need you more than ever."

Chapter 3

The Stranger

Timothee opened the door to his upstairs bedroom and slammed it shut as he walked in. With one giant leap he landed on his bed, causing the springs in his bed frame to creek. He let out a long exacerbated sigh and undid the tie to his dress robes. He looked out the window at the twinkling city of Paris. He felt the urge to leave and spend the night wandering the streets of the city like he had done plenty of times this summer.

One such night he was walking passed what he had been told was his old house, and saw a couple with an infant walking up the steps. They looked so happy together and he had wondered what it felt like to have parents.

"You really got into it this time Timothee," He whispered to himself. Timothee wished they would have let him speak at the Wizengamot trial, let him tell his side of the story, but everything was moving so fast. Everything felt so foggy, so unclear. He didn't hate muggles like some of his classmates, in fact he had stood up for them at school, even to the point of confrontation.

Timothee rolled away from the window and found himself staring into the happy smiles of his parents as they held him in his arms. Sitting up in bed, he took the moving picture from his nightstand and longingly held it in his hands. He had spent countless hours staring at the picture of his parents, memorizing every movement and every detail. The way they looked at him and the way they had looked at each other with such love.

Unbuttoning his collar, he pulled out a long silver chain that had two gold rings dangling from the end. One ring had a blue diamond accented with white stones while its twin had a red diamond accented with the same. Timothee read the engraved names inside, "Christiane Rene Partée. Édouard Serge Partée." He felt something large well up in his throat as he stroked his finger over the stones of the ring.

There was a slight tugging at the foot of his bed, and Timothee looked up to see a weathered old stuffed brown bear climbing up.

"Ursa," Timothee greeted as the stuffed bear walked towards him and gave him a hug with his soft plush arms. He had grown up with the bear and while the magical charms of other bears had faded, turning them into nothing more than stuffed toys, Ursa seemed to keep going on. It was almost as if he knew that he was still needed.

"I really messed up today," Timothee admitted.

The stuffed bear took a seat and looked up at the teen with his eyebrows raised. He had lost the ability to talk years ago but his eyes seemed to still convey his feelings.

Timothee heard a muffled knock at the downstairs front door and listened while his grandmother went to answer it.

"She doesn't listen to me," Timothee said, "She is just like all the others. All they want to do is talk, not one of them actually wants to listen. It's like they don't care what I have to say."

Ursa tilted his head to one side as he changed his expression and pointed to his large round stuffed ear. White bits of cotton seemed to protrude from the corner where the seam to the ear had ripped.

"I know you listen to me," Timothee replied, "But sometimes I wish… I don't know what I wish…" He realized as he looked back out the window, watching the yellow glowing lights of the city. There was a white streak in the sky of a falling star. It was bright, beautiful and brilliant, but very short lived.

Lying back down in bed, Timothee closed his brown and green eyes to the subtle twinkling of the city lights. He felt Ursa grab a sheet on his bed and pull it over his shoulder and it wasn't long before he fell into a deep sleep.

"Timothee!" A voice called through the darkness, "Timothee!"

Waking up from the haze of his slumber, Timothee rubbed the sleep from his eyes. It was still dark out and rolling away from his window, his clock read four in the morning.

"Timothee!" His grandmother's voice called through his shut door.

"What is it?" He called back.

"Could you come down here please?"

Timothee looked back at Ursa who had nestled up by his legs, "Let's go see what she wants."

Walking down the stairs and into the kitchen, with the bear in tow, Timothee's grandmother was sitting at the dining table with a stranger. The man had his back towards the entrance of the dining room and Timothee could not see his face.

"Have a seat," His grandmother offered before taking a sip from her tea. Her eyes were red and puffy as if she had been crying and the weak smile she gave her grandson quivered at its' ends.

Placed in the center of the table were the broken halves of his wand which still left a deep pain in his heart.

The stranger sitting in the seat was an older gentleman probably in his forties if not his early fifties. His hair was black with grey streaks and it was neatly styled as to create a part down one side. His face was lean with web like wrinkles that had formed at the corner of his brown eyes. On his face was a curious expression as he studied the teen. He wore black slacks with a grey stripped vest and a matching solid black satin tie over his button up shirt. His black shoes were kept in immaculate condition to the point where they almost seemed reflective.

Extending a long slender hand, the stranger said, "Samuel Redd. And you are Timothee I presume?"

Timothee extended his hand as the new comer grabbed it and gave it an aggressive shake. By his greeting in English and the way he pronounced his words, Timothee couldn't help but mutter, "American?"

"Why yes," The man said with a sly smile, "You are quite observant, just like your father."

The words hit Timothee like a ton of bricks, physically causing him to take a step back. He looked at his grandmother who just nodded her head encouragingly. Standing in silence, he let the words resonate through him as he echoed them in his mind, "just like your father."

Tilting his head to one side he looked back at Samuel before whispering, "You knew my…"

"Father," Samuel said, completing the stunned boys words, "I knew Édouard quite well and that is why I am here. You see Timothee, your father helped me in a time when no one else would. He helped in a way that no one else could. So I am here to help you in the same way your father helped me."

"But how?" Timothee asked.

Samuel licked his lips before turning to the broken wand on the table, "By taking you to America."

"What?" Timothee replied.

"It will be good for you," Timothee's grandmother interjected.

Timothee shook his head, "But why?"

"Well…" Samuel paused, "The events that have taken place tonight will very well affect you for the rest of your life. Timothee you were kicked out of wizarding school, the life you would once have had is gone. Your grandmother is a pure blood witch who has known nothing but magic her entire life. My father was a wizard and my mother was a muggle, not to mention my wife is a muggle."

"So?" Timothee said hesitantly as he tried to figure out where Samuel's train of thought was leading, "What does that have to do with me? I am not a muggle, I am a wizard from one of the most powerful wizarding families on the planet."

"You may be a wizard but you can't practice magic," Samuel said.

The words sent a cold chill up Timothee's spine. The cold reality of his situation had not seemed so palpable until now.

Samuel pointed towards the broken wand, "If you try to practice magic, you will end up in Azkaban and believe me that is the last place you want to go."

The teenagers face crumpled in disbelief, "Are you saying you are going to teach me to be a muggle?"

"Yes," Samuel answered.

"No!" Timothee fired back, "I am a Partée! Do you know what that means or did your mud blood parents not teach you?"

"Timothee!" His grandmother yelled.

Timothee didn't look at his grandmother as he stormed out of the kitchen, into the hallway and out the front door.

From the dining table, Samuel and Rene felt the front door slam so hard that the chandelier in the hallway began to sway.

"I'm sorry," Rene whispered as she wiped a tear from her face, "He has just been so angry lately, even before all this happened."

"It's ok," Samuel consoled, "He is just scared and confused. Trust me. I know exactly what he is going through."

"Do you really think sending him to America will help?"

"I do," Samuel answered. Reaching his hand across the table, he grabbed the elderly woman's soft warm hands and gave them a gentle squeeze, "He will be ok. I promise you."

Swallowing hard, Rene nodded her head.

Chapter 4

The Decision is Yours

Timothee stormed down the sidewalk with his jaw clenched so hard that he began to develop a headache. He felt the tension building on the sides of his temples as a vein in his forehead pulsed.

"Live as a muggle…" He muttered aloud as he shook his head, "The nerve. I am a wizard!"

The streets of Paris were now empty as he walked at a brisk pace. He did not know where he was headed, he only knew that he had to get away, get away from everything. From his grandmother who didn't understand, who couldn't understand. From the stranger who called himself "Samuel" who assumed he knew how to help. But most of all it was the entire magical world that had turned their back on him. That betrayal hurt more than anything else. Timothee loved magic and couldn't imagine living without the power, the beauty, the grace, the elegance, the energy, the excitement. It would all be gone, stolen from him in a single spell, in a single word.

The cold night air gave Timothee goose bumps, causing his entire body to shiver. He had walked for a couple of blocks down the wet streets. It had rained earlier and he took no mind to the puddles that he walked through. His feet were freezing and his toes were numb but he was too preoccupied in thought to notice.

Turning onto a cobble stone path, Timothee approached a large white stonewall with two towering pillars. Decorative stone torches, wreathes and chalices were carved into the entrance. The latin phrase "SPES ILLORVM IMMORTALITATE PLENA EST" was carved on the left pillar and "QVICREDIT INME ETIAMSIMORTVVS FVERIT VIVET" carved on the right.

It was the Pere Lachaise Cemetery and this late at night it would be the type of isolation that Timothee craved in order to think.

He walked past the rows of eroded mausoleums and copper statues that had turned a shade of sea green after years of rainfall and oxidation. The statues looked so real and yet he knew they would never be nothing more than imprints of life. The old stone road was tight and winding as it undulated over small hills and slithered through fields of headstones. A light mist had settled and a full moon shown so bright that Timothee didn't need any light to see the road before him.

After wandering for fifteen minutes, Timothee realized that he was good and lost. Closing his eyes, he took in a few deep breathes and felt his shoulders begin to relax when something caught his attention. It was quiet, too quiet. Normally at night there would be the high pitched whine of insects or the repetitive staccato calls of frogs. But here, now, it was dead silent, the kind of silence that only happened when a predator was nearby.

Feeling his pulse begin to quicken, Timothee scanned the low hanging mist that surrounded him in every direction. Suddenly the peaceful stroll wasn't so calming anymore as he felt he hairs begin to rise on the back of his neck. A twig snapped behind him, and he spun around reaching for a wand that wasn't there.

"Oh great," He remembered, "What will I do?"

Out of the hallowed silence came a loud "crack!" followed by a sudden "thud!" from behind. Jumping nearly out of his black shoes Timothee let out a frightened yelp but to his relief he saw a man standing there, the same man that had been in his grandmother's dining room.

"Did you follow me?" Timothee asked coldly.

"Yes," Samuel replied, brushing off his dress coat.

"Came here to persuade me again?"

"No, just to talk," Samuel answered.

Timothee turned to walk away, "Well I don't want to talk."

"Did you know your family has a mausoleum here?" Samuel said abruptly.

Timothee stopped in his tracks, "Yes, my grandmother and I go every year to visit my parents. We were going to visit them tomorrow on the anniversary of their…" Timothee paused.

Samuel took a few steps closer, "Would you like to go right now?"

Timothee turned his head towards the darkness where the twig had snapped and felt uneasy. Nodding his head, he confessed, "I am kind of lost."

"That's no problem," Samuel said. Pulling out his wand, he casted, "Inveniria familia."

There was a slight tugging under Timothee's white button down shirt as he felt the two rings on his silver chain trying to break free. Grabbing the chain, he freed the rings from the shirt only to have them shoot forward, pulling the chain tight.

"Lead the way," Samuel smiled as he gestured his hand.

They walked side by side through the rows of mausoleums that arose from the low hanging fog like a ghostly city in the clouds.

It wasn't long before Timothee stopped at a large black granite mausoleum with Greco-Roman architecture. Carved along the top was the name "Partée," And while the other mausoleums looked weathered by time, this one looked as new as the day it was set down.

Walking up to the large rod iron entrance, Timothee studied the two large stone blocks that lay on either side of the doorway. There was a bronze plaque on each granite block, one with "Pullox" engraved on it and the other displayed, "Castor."

"There were statues here once," Timothee said, breaking the silence, "Great big stone statues my grandmother told me. There was a legend that they were haunted and would move."

"What happened to them?" Samuel asked.

"They were destroyed the night my parents died," Timothee answered, "Some claim they came to life."

Timothee reached up on the tips of his toes and pricked his pointer finger on one of the sharp rod iron spears that decorated the fence. A small crimson dot welled up in the center of the cream colored pad of skin. Smearing the red drop on the black iron, he whispered, "Oculi Virides" and the gate doors began to open.

Although the mausoleum was no larger than a large shed, the inside was that of a cathedral adorned with stained glass windows, elaborate gold candle lit chandeliers and a flat stone altar that was lit by a single beam of light.

It was particularly cold inside the mausoleum of Partée and the damp smell of water filled the air as they walked down the grey stone steps into the nave. Samuel's hard shoes sent an echo through the large open space as they reached the base level. Along the walls were various moving paintings of each family member that was entombed. Their garb ranged from ancient to medieval and all the way to the modern styles.

Timothee pointed towards the ceiling where a large elaborate mural looked as if it had been scorched by flame, "they say that was also destroyed the day my parents died as well."

"How much do you know about that night?" Samuel asked.

"Not much," Timothee answered, he ran his hand along one of the tall stone pillars that towered over him, "My grandmother says that the Aurors who came to talk to her on that night claimed that my uncle had escaped from Azkaban with the help of dark wizards. But I've looked and there are no records of it ever happening."

Timothee strolled further into the mausoleum, his head turning this way and that, "My parents were Aurors you know, maybe they tried to arrest my uncle. I don't know, I don't think anyone does."

"Timothee I'll be honest with you. I was with your father the night he died. And I was there with him when we freed your uncle from Azkaban."

Timothee stopped and turned around, "But why? Why would an Auror free someone from Azkaban? Are you a dark wizard? Was my Father one?"

"No, neither of us was," Samuel said, "You know how I said your father helped me in a time when no one else would?"

Timothee nodded.

"He was there because he believed his brother, your uncle, Lestat was innocent. I was there to free my wife who had been wrongly imprisoned as a muggle."

"Then how did my parents die?"

"I don't know," Samuel confessed, "We parted ways just outside these very doors before they met their end. But I can tell you that the man your father thought he was freeing was not the same. Whether it was a curse or the screams of Azkaban, Lestat was a changed man Timothee, he seemed almost deranged."

Samuel saw the questions building up in Timothee's expression. A search for answers he had been looking for his entire life.

"I don't know everything Timothee," Samuel said, "but I can tell you that your father was a good man. That he loved you. That everything he did was for the love he bore for his family. When I found out what had happened I couldn't believe it. When we had left each other everything seemed fine. More than fine! And yet somehow I am here and he is not…"

Samuel looked up at the scorched mural on the ceiling, the anguish growing on his face, "I have told myself for years that if I could trade places with Édouard I would. I had robbed a child of a father and a mother for my own selfish gains. I was so blinded that I was willing to burn down the world to get Mara back and in the end it wasn't my world that burned, it was yours. I think that is why it has taken me until now to come to you. I don't blame you if you hate me and if you never want to see me again. Just say the words and I'll be gone, forever."

He sighed as he looked to Timothee, "I can't bring back your parents and I can never take away the pain I have caused you. For that I am truly sorry but if you come with me, I promise you that I will spend every last waking moment of my life making it up to you. Mara has agreed to do the same and maybe, just maybe, together all of us can make a life out of this."

There was a long pause as they stood in silence with Timothee trying to process the information and Samuel standing with his palms open.

"I…" Timothee stammered, unable to find the words, "Can I have a minute?"

Samuel walked over and placed an arm on the teen's shoulders, "I'll wait for you just outside of the mausoleum. If you have any more questions for me or you just want me to leave, I understand."

Samuel walked up the long stonecutter grey steps, just outside the black granite mausoleum.

The sun was beginning to rise over the horizon, melting away the cold fog. The orange and pink hues slowly transformed into a beautiful royal blue skyline. Samuel stood there quietly listening to the early morning sparrows who chirped as they darted in and out of a tall green oak tree.

"I'll go," A voice called from inside the mausoleum.

"Come again?" Samuel asked.

"With you," Timothee said as he climbed up the last stair towards the entrance, "I'll go with you to America."

Samuel smiled and it looked as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders, "I think you are making the right decision and Mara will be absolutely delighted to meet you."

Staring at the sunrise, they listened to the birds' song, taking in the birth of a new day.


	2. Partee Child Part 2

Chapter 5

Muggle Life

The view was breathe taking from the top of the Eiffel Tower and the city of Paris twinkled in all its' magical glory. Timothee leaned against the railing, staring out into the vast city lights that seemed to go to the ends of the earth, while the occasional camera flash dotted the green sprawling lawns below. He had snuck up to the top of the Eiffel Tower like he had done so many times before, always when there was no one else to see him practice his magic. Timothee knew that it was illegal to practice underage wizardry outside of school, especially in the presence of muggles, but his professors reassured him that the ministry wouldn't send young witches and wizards to Azkaban for practicing minor spells.

A warm summer breeze rolled in and blew Timothee's black hair back as he whispered, "Lumos." The point of his eleven inch ebony wand illuminated a small ball of white light and then with another call of "Nox" the light was gone.

Timothee raised his wand a second time to cast a charm when he heard the sound of a door close.

"Is someone else here?" he wondered. But he knew that the security guards never came up at night. Raising his wand to call for his broom, he stopped when a woman emerged from around the corner. She had shoulder length obsidian black hair, a slender face and a black dress that danced around her lean body in the summer wind. Her eyes were a deep glacial blue that seemed to glow in the full moon that was rising in the eastern skies. She looked to be older than him, probably in her late teens early twenties.

"Oh," She said nervously, noticing that she was not alone, "I didn't realize anyone else would be up here."

Captivated by her deep blue eyes, Timothee let out a nervous laugh, "I, uh, didn't realize anyone would be up here either."

"You know this area is closed?" She said.

"I know," Timothee answered, "It's kind of why I am up here. I enjoy the silence."

"So you like to be alone too?" She said with a half cocked grin.

The way the wind blew her jet black hair across her face in the summer breeze was hypnotizing. She tucked the locks back behind one ear, and let out a small giggle. Timothee noticed smoky wisps on her rosy cheeks as she tucked a lock of hair back.

"Timothee," he said nervously as he introduced himself.

"Elawin," The woman said, taking a step forward and extending a hand.

He grabbed her slender hand and gave it a gentle shake. It was colder than his and gave him a slight chill.

"Poor circulation," Elawin said, taking her hand back and rubbing them together, "It doesn't matter how warm it is, my hands are always cold."

"It's okay. My grandmother's hands are always cold as well."

Elawin's curious expression let slip an inquisitive glare.

Timothee let out another nervous laugh, "I mean, you are old, I mean Cold! You aren't old or anything. You know, it's just that you said you have cold hands and so I figured I would… just keep quiet."

Elawin smiled at Timothee's rambling, "You're sweet."

Something about that smile filled Timothee with butterflies in his stomach. He was nervous but couldn't explain why. He'd been around girls at school, girls he liked but none of them made him feel this way.

"Could this be love?" he wondered.

Leaning against the rail and staring out into the city, Elawin let out a small sorrowful sigh.

Now, standing next to her, Timothee realized that the dark wisps on her cheeks were the running lines of black mascara.

"She had been crying," Timothee thought.

Clearing his throat, Timothee asked, "Are you okay?"

Elawin pursed her lips into a forced smile but it was fleeting as the corners of her mouth fell under the weight of whatever burdened her, "I…" she paused, "The city is so peaceful up here at night. Up here I feel like I'm in a different world. One so far away from all our day to day problems."

"It's why I come up here. I feel like it is the only place I can think."

"Can I ask you a question," Elawin queried, she looked down at her hands as they fumbled nervously on the rail.

"Sure," Timothee said.

"You ever… you ever do something unforgivable?" Elawin said just barely above a whisper.

"Unforgivable?" Timothee asked.

"Just forget it," Elawin replied shaking her head. She turned away from the teen who was taller than her by nearly half a foot. A trait he was told that he had inherited from his grandfather.

"Unforgivable," Timothee thought to himself. The only unforgivable things he knew of were curses. Curses he had learned in his third year at Pursang. But Elawin was a muggle, what could she be talking about?

"Are you in trouble?" Timothee probed.

Turning towards him and taking a step closer, Elawin laid a hand on his chest. He could feel the cool delicate hand against his beating heart as he looked her in the eyes. Those calm sapphire eyes which were so mesmerizing.

"Breakfast," Elawin said.

"Excuse?" Timothee replied, unsure of what he had heard.

"BREAKFAST!" Elawin shouted at him.

Timothee took a step back, shocked and confused by her sudden change.

"TIME FOR BREAKFAST!" Elawin shouted, her voice now in the registry of a man.

Timothee's eyes opened to a white ceiling above him. A white fan slowly spun overhead swaying ever so slightly, creating a cycling rhythmic hum in his room. Lifting his head from his pillow he looked around and remembered that he was not in France. Placing a hand over his eyes, he let out a frustrated sigh before his head fall back onto his pillow.

"Come on Bud! You don't want to be late!" Samuel called from downstairs.

Ursa stood up from the side of the bed and walked over to tap Timothee on the shoulder.

"I know!" Timothee hissed, "I'm up."

Getting out of bed he walked down a small creaky wooden hallway towards a bathroom where he checked himself out in the mirror. He was breaking out with a red spot on his chin and knew it could be one of many if he wasn't careful. His hair was blonde again, as the spell he had used to change it black had worn off. Although he had gotten it cut before he left for America, there was still a shagginess to the style that remained.

Running some warm water, he splashed it on his face as his brown green eyes gazed into the mirror for a second time, "First day of muggle school," he said to himself. He ran his finger over the rings on his silver necklace as he felt a nervousness creep up in the pit of his stomach.

After washing up, Timothee put on a pair of jeans that tapered out at the lower leg and a honeysuckle short sleeve shirt before heading downstairs where the smells of fresh cooked bacon and eggs beckoned.

The kitchen was quaint with brown wooden cabinets, avocado green appliances and hunter green floral printed wall paper. An oval table was off to one side of the kitchen whose metal legs rested on a checkered linoleum floor. On one of the chairs at the table was a grey cloth backpack with coffee leather straps and a red bow on it.

Samuel was dressed in his black professor's robes while he slid an over easy egg next to two pieces of bacon and a buttered slice of toast. Looking up from plating, he smiled at Tmothee, "You look ready. Are you nervous?"

Looking down at his clothes and running his hands over them, he nodded his head and answered in English, "A little."

"You sound great," Samuel grinned, "Practicing this summer has really paid off. Now come eat and I'll take you to school before I head over to Salem."

They sat at the table and began to eat. Timothee eyed the bag in the empty seat.

"It's nice isn't it?" Samuel noted.

"Wi," Timothee said before shaking his head, "I mean, yes."

"Mara got it for you. It's to hold your books. She wanted to be here for your first day but she had to open the bakery. She suggested we go out for dinner to celebrate your first day. What do you think?"

"That would be nice."

"It's like Mara said, muggle high school won't be that much of a change. It's all kids around your age. Sure it might be a little difficult at first but over time you will adjust and find friends."

Timothee nodded, "I know."

Timothee was calm on the outside but internally he was a mess. Change sounded easy but the summer had been one big lifestyle transformation. He missed his old friends, he missed how easy magic had made life but most of all he missed quidditch. Instead he had spent the summer watching baseball which was so slow. There was no excitement in muggle sports, no danger, no thrill!

They finished their meal and with a flick of his hawthorn wand, Samuel had sent all the dishes into the sink as a brush floated over and began to scrub them clean.

"Don't tell Mara," Samuel said as he tucked his wand back into his robes, "I would do them myself but I don't want us to be late."

Mara had given Samuel a hard time whenever he had performed magic over the summer. She said, "It wasn't setting the right example for Timothee and that if Timothee had to live as a muggle, they would too."

Mara herself was a muggle which made it easy but Samuel would occasionally slip usually when it involved some chore or house work. The sound "Ah ah!" would always call just as he would pull out his wand. It was as if she had developed a sixth sense of when Samuel was going to use his wand.

They climbed into a teal 1965 mercury comet and slowly rolled out of the garage. Pulling onto a paved road, they drove towards the town of Witchaven, New York.

"You know this road was gravel no less than a year ago?" Samuel said.

Timothee had mouthed the question in unison with Samuel as he looked out of the window. It was the same question Samuel always asked when they drove into town and somehow it seemed that he was always amazed by the muggle ingenuity.

"Yeah, it's something," Timothee said as he feigned interest.

He watched the endless forest of white birch trees that seemed to go off into eternity.

"You know they call it the Witch's Forest. White birch trees for miles and miles in every direction of Witchaven," Samuel said while Timothee mouthed it word for word.

Samuel and Mara lived in a rather isolated area just outside of the small quaint town on a road where their closest neighbor wasn't visible from the house and the town itself was a mile away. It wasn't long before the teal Mercury pulled onto the main street of Witchaven.

They passed small shops and restaurants as they drove towards town hall. Danny's Diner and M's Bakery were just a few to note. The town hall itself was an old 17th century building that stood three stories tall with white wooden siding, black shutters and a tall black bell tower on the roof. In front of town hall was a large roundabout, similar to the ones Timothee remembered in Paris. A floral garden of purple tulips surrounded a copper statue of three trumpeting angels with long flowing dresses. Their golden metallic bodies seemed to almost glow in the morning sun.

Samuel let out a long yawn as the car circled passed the 17th century building. Shaking his head, he declared, "I need a muggle coffee."

Once on the other side of the roundabout which was considered the halfway point in town, they drove through two residential blocks where children of all ages seemed to make their way in the same direction. Young kids no older than five or six held the hands of their parents or struggled to keep up with their older siblings who looked annoyed by the little person that waddled behind them.

Four large yellow buses towered above all the other cars parked in front of a large tan brick two story building with a plush shamrock green lawn. A large flag pole was planted in front with the American flag dancing in a modest breeze.

"We're here!" Samuel said as he grinned and looked over at Timothee, "Remember it is just like wizarding school."

"I will," Timothee said, a queasy feeling growing in his stomach.

"Do you want me to park and walk you in?" Samuel asked.

"No thank you," Timothee said quickly. If muggle school was anything like wizarding school, having your parents walk in with you when you were a third year would be a social catastrophe.

"Okay," Samuel said as he pulled the mercury over and put the gear in park, "Have fun!"

"Thanks again," Timothee said as he grabbed his grey cloth back pack and exited the car.

"Oh wait, take this!" Samuel said as he reached his hand out and dropped four green pieces of paper and six various coins into Timothee's hand.

"Muggle money for lunch!" Samuel shouted.

Timothee nodded with appreciation before putting the money in his jean pocket. He watched as Samuel's teal car pulled away before crossing the street and making his way towards the large tan building.

Witchaven High School was a large two story tan brick building with Greco style stone work in the front. There were four large smooth stone columns that supported a large triangular tympanum. Inside the tympanum were the carved words "Witchaven High School" with two griffins on either side. Older kids streamed into the building while the younger kids parted ways into the building across the street, "Witchaven Elementary."

Timothee felt so alone in the crowd as he approached the school. He watched as old friends reunited with high fives and large embraces. A small circular group of teenage girls crowded around one another as one girl showed off an orange and red flowered book bag.

Towards the entrance a group of older boys sat around a flag pole all wearing white jerseys with rather large blue numbers in the front. One pair of teens passed a brown ball back and forward.

Timothee's heart skipped a beat, "Was that a quaffle?" He thought for a brief second but his moment of hope was sequestered when he saw the shape. The ball was long and oval instead of round and dimpled like a quaffle.

"I wonder what game they are playing?" Timothee contemplated as he walked up the steps and into the main foyer of Witchaven High. Large blue banners dangled from the ceiling with gold dates stitched into them with the words "State Champions" at the top of each banner.

A white bearded man wearing a white button down shirt, a colorful tie and thick glasses stood near a series of double doors, and called out, "Welcome Freshman and New Students! Please report to the auditorium. Right this way."

Timothee followed the flow of students as they filed their way into the auditorium where dozens of rows of olive green folding theatre chairs descended on a sloping plane. Just beyond the chairs was an eight foot wooden stage that was hugged on either side by red curtains. The walls were also draped with long hanging scarlet curtains and a large mural was painted on the ceiling of a blue sky with a faced orange sun.

Seeing the mural made Timothee miss the enchanted ceilings of Pursang which would have had a real yellow sun burning high above.

"Please fill the front rows all the way down," Ordered a lean brown skinned man in a grey suit at a microphone on the stage. A small cluster of teachers stood to one side of the stage, each holding a sheet of paper.

Timothee found a seat five rows away from the stage and a quarter of the way towards the middle. Looking around, he noticed groups of friends sitting together sharing laughs and stories of their summer excursions.

"I wonder what Pierre, Marie and Camille were up to?" Timothee thought to himself quietly, "Did they know I wouldn't be returning to Pursang this year? Did they know I was barred from magic?" He sighed, "I miss them."

A sudden wave of sadness washed over Timothee as he realized, "I might never see them again."

"Welcome Class of 1980," the brown boxed speakers that lined the walls of the auditorium crackled, "Welcome to Witchaven High School, where the foundations for your life will be forged. I am your principal Mr. Vandigraff and in a short moment the teachers will be calling your names to report to your home rooms. Every morning before class starts, you are to report to this class room for roll call. But before we begin, I would like to say a few words."

"I heard Rocket came back this year," A boy whispered in the row behind Timothee.

"No way," Another boy said, "I was sure he was going to transfer."

"Nope," The first boy said confidently, "My older brother is on the team and he says he is actually kind of glad he didn't. They might have a chance at the title again this year."

Timothee tilted his head to listen in without trying to show his intentions.

"Who is Rocket?" A third boy asked.

"Don't ya know?" The second boy said in shock.

"Easy on him Jake," the first boy quelled, "He doesn't have a big brother or sister like you or me. Rocket is the starting quarter back on the Gryphs. Biggest kid you've ever seen."

"I'll say," The second boy added.

"So why would he transfer?" The third boy asked.

"Well, last year the Griffins made it all the way to the championship and on the night of the big game, he was a no show!"

"What!" The third boy said.

"Exactly! The backup quarterback had to play and blew it big time," Boy one explained.

Timothee turned forward while wondering, "Who is rocket?"

Mr. Vandigraff continued with a stern expression as his chestnut eyes scanned the crowd, "Students will no longer be permitted to use the tunnel from the west wing to the cafeteria. I know it is a faster way of cutting across our campus but given the senior prank last year, that privilege has been revoked. Students who choose to use the tunnel will receive an instant detention. With that being said, good luck and hopefully I don't see too many of you in my office this year."

Chapter 6

A New Record

It was eleven in the morning when Timothee found himself sitting in the small first floor office with a window that over looked the athletic grounds. The rectangular wooden desk was kept quite neat and a finely kept brass nameplate with the words "Principal Joseph Alonso Vandigraff" was placed at its' center.

A large white face clock with black numbers was mounted on the wall to Timothee's right and ticked loudly as its' red second hand snapped around in an endless loop.

"Headmaster's office on the first day…" Timothee sighed, shaking his head. He reached into his shirt and pulled out the two gold rings on his chain. His fingers caressed the encrusted gem stones before he tucked them away. Letting out a long yawn, he shook his head and hissed, "That's what got you here in the first place!"

Timothee heard Mr. Vandigraff's voice on the other side of the door as he asked his secretary, "A student already?"

"Yes," He heard the woman sigh, "So much for the perfect first day."

"It takes more than that to ruin a good day," Mr. Vandigraff replied.

The door knob turned and the door opened as Mr. Vandigraff entered from behind Timothee. He unbuttoned his grey suit coat before taking a seat at his desk. Holding a piece of pink paper, he squinted as he read slowly, "Timothee Partée?"

Timothee shook his head nervously, "Wi Monsieur."

"You're the new student from France?" Mr. Vandigraff said.

"Wi."

"Do you speak English?" Mr. Vandigraff asked as he placed the pink sheet on his desk.

"Yes."

Grabbing a pen and signing the pink sheet of paper, Mr. Vandigraff let out a long yawn as he reclined in his brown leather chair, "So why don't you tell me what landed you hear in the principal's office on the first day of school?"

Timothee reached for the rings under his shirt and rubbed them between his pointer finger and thumb, "Well you see…"

_20 Minutes Earlier_

"History is written by the victors, a popular quote that we see played out time and time again throughout history. From the policies of Julius Caesar to the reconstruction of Germany and Japan after World War II, it is the victor who determines the fate of the vanquished," A short balding man with a long southern drawl explained as he picked up a piece of chalk from a tray and began to scribble on the green chalkboard. His handwriting was sloppy with lots of swirls and loops.

"I am Mr. Ap-ple-ga-te," he annunciated with the chalk squeaking irritatingly, "and I will be your history instructor this year."

It was Timothee's third class of the day and he had already learned a valuable lesson, "To avoid being called on, you don't sit in the front row of the class." He felt relatively safe sitting three rows back and watched as the professor in tan khakis and a white button down shirt strolled across the front of his class.

"Professors don't wear dress robes," Timothee realized. In fact no one wore robes at all in muggle school, it was all very informal. They didn't call the professors, professors, they called them teachers. It was all lots of little changes that made this new world so different like using lockers instead of having living quarters and trunks. Another change was the use of a combination lock to his locker which almost made him late to his second class. He was so frustrated that he had whispered "Alohomora" in hopes of opening his locker but the spell failed.

History class was on the second floor and faced the eastern skies where sunlight poured into the room. The blue skies looked inviting as the calls of chirping birds slipped through the cracked windows. It was a perfect day to play quidditch.

"I wonder how the quidditch team at Pursang will do this year? Who will they find to replace me at beater?" Timothee thought as a heavy sensation started in the back of Timothee's throat, a heaviness that forced him to open his mouth. His eyes closed and all at once a rush of air rolled out from deep within. His hands balled up and his legs stretched forward as the muscles along his back tightened. It was a great big yawn.

"Excuse me?" Mr. Applegate's voice boomed from the front of the class.

Timothee snapped his mouth shut and sat up in his chair at instant attention. Opening his eyes, they met the stern brown eyes of Mr. Applegate.

"Am I boring you son?" Mr. Applegate interrogated.

Timothee looked around the room and realized that all the students were now looking at him as well. Slowly pointing a finger at himself, he asked, "Me?"

"Yes, you!" Mr. Applegate answered, "You must already know the curriculum if you can fall asleep in my class on the first day."

"I… I…" Timothee stammered, "I didn't mean to…"

"Show such disrespect?" Mr. Applegate interjected. He rested his hands on his hips and shook his head, "Everyone pull out a piece of paper and a writing utensil."

There was a collective groan as all the students plunged into their backpacks to acquiesce to the professor's request.

"It seems that I am boring you all with information you already know, Mr?" Mr. Applegate said pointing towards Timothee.

Timothee pointed to himself for a second time, "Partée?"

"Mr. Partée," Mr. Applegate repeated slowly, "Yes, and since you all seem so knowledgeable. I will give you a quiz that I expect you all to ace given your extensive experience on the subject."

Timothee felt his face turn red as a few of the students gave him dirty looks upon being instructed to take the pop quiz. He wanted to be invisible. He didn't mean to yawn, he just felt tired. It sort of slipped before he realized what he was doing.

"Three questions ought to suffice," Mr. Applegate said, "And I expect you Mr. Partée to get a hundred percent considering the fact that I was putting you to sleep. Question one, this European war took place in the 17th century and was considered one of the major conflicts that shaped our world today? It just so happens to be where this class will start."

"hmmm" Timothee thought to himself until it came to him, "I know this one!"

"Question two, in the 18th century the 13 colonies signed the Declaration of Independence which proclaimed secession from what ruling body in Britain?"

"I know this one too!" Timothee thought excitedly, he scribbled down the answer and looked up as some of his classmates seemed to be struggling. A dark haired boy sitting two rows over licked the tip of his pen before looking around the room, suddenly his face lit up as he scribbled down an answer.

"Question three, Orville and Wilbur Wright were the first to fly in what at Kitty Hawk?"

Timothee thought for a second but there was only one answer that made sense. He paused a moment before writing it down.

"Alright, pens down, pass your papers to the front." Mr. Applegate ordered.

Some students turned around to collect quizzes from those behind them while others scribbled out their answers and replaced them at the last minute.

"Pens down, papers up! If I see anyone writing now, I assume you are cheating and you will receive a zero."

Mr. Applegate collected the small stacks of quizzes from each row. He was quiet at first while he flipped through the quizzes. He shook his head as his brown eyes scanned each one. After reading the answers to a quiz, he placed it on his desk as he went to the next one mumbling the words "wrong," just audible enough for the class to hear.

"Wrong! Most of ya'll missed the first question." he said, now three quarters of the way through the stack and placed another paper on his desk. Scanning the next page his face lit up, "My, my. Our first hundred."

The students looked around the room, trying to guess who was the student that aced the exam. For a brief second, Timothee's heart jumped in his chest as he felt a bit of excitement, "I knew it!"

Holding up the paper for the class to see, Mr. Applegate called out, "Theodore Bruder!"

It was the same boy that Timothee had observed earlier. He was about the same size as Timothee with black combed back hair, blue eyes and cream colored skin. He had a few red splotches on his chin but all and all looked like a normal student.

A boy in glasses turned towards Theodore and stuck out his tongue to which Theodore responded with a sly grin.

"Let's see if there are others," Mr. Applegate said as he flipped through more exams, "You know I thought there would be more."

Flipping through another exam and placing it on his desk he stopped a second time. It was obvious that he had to reread the answers on this particular exam as he grimaced, "Mr. Partée…"

"Wi?" Timothee answered.

"Are you funning me Son?"

"I'm Sorry?"

"Do you think this exam was a joke?" Mr. Applegate said as his face turned red.

"No monsieur," Timothee replied nervously.

"Obviously we have a comedian in our midst," Mr. Applegate announced as he held up Timothee's exam, "Question one asked for the major European conflict of the 17th century. The answer was, The Thirty Years War. Mr. Partée felt the answer was, The First Goblin Rebellion."

There were a few sniggers and chortles in the class as students exchanged looks of amusement.

"Goblins?" Mr. Applegate said almost in bemused shock, "Question two asked for the ruling body that the Thirteen Colonies declared independence from. I would have accepted the British Monarchy or more specifically King George. On the other hand, I will not accept 'The Ministry of Magic' as a correct answer."

The laughter which had been restrained seemed to grow as students laughed openly. All except for the boy in the glasses who had stuck his tongue out at the boy who had received the class' high mark. Those two boys looked at Timothee with a peculiar interest. Like a person they recognized but did not know from where.

"Quiet down now," Mr. Applegate ordered, "I thought question three was a gimme but obviously I must have been mistaken. Class, what did Orville and Wilbur Wright fly in at Kitty Hawk?"

In unison, the class answered, "An Airplane!"

"Well there's hope for some of you yet," Mr. Applegate said, "Now I don't know what they teach over there in France Mr. Partée, but Orville and Wilbur did not fly on a 'Broom' of all things!"

Now it could not be contained as the class erupted into uncontrollable laughter. Pulling out a red pen, Mr. Applegate drew a large round zero on Timothee's paper before reaching into his desk and pulling out a small pink sheet. Filling it out, he brought the pink sheet and the failed quiz over to Timothee's desk.

"Now I want this quiz signed by your parents and brought back to me tomorrow Mr. Partée. And you can take this little pink slip and get your butt on down to the principal's office."

Timothee was embarrassed, more than embarrassed. He was mortified by what had happened. How could things have turned for the worst so quickly? On the first day of school of all days! What would Samuel and Mara think when they saw his quiz?

"Oh this is just terrible," he thought as he fumbled with his things and headed out of the laughing classroom, "I just want to be back at Pursang around my friends and around normal Professors!" He thought as he pursed his lips and flushed face.

_The Present_

"And that's how you ended up in my office?" Mr. Vandigraff said, almost in slight disbelief.

"Wi… I mean yes." Timothee answered.

"Look, it's your first day. Maybe you were trying to be funny to make some friends or you were the class clown back in your old school. I'm going to give you the same advice I give to all those who come to my office for the first time. Think."

"Think?"

"Exactly. If you are going to say something or do something, always take a moment and think how others will perceive your actions. Ask yourself, 'Will I get into trouble for what I am going to do? How will this affect my fellow students and teachers?' If you do that, I promise you that you won't have any more trips to my office. Deal?"

"Deal," Timothee said with a renewed optimism, "So no detention?"

"No detention," Mr. Vandigraff answered as he got up from his seat and opened the door to his office.

"Thank you Monsieur!"

"Hey, but you still need to get that quiz signed!"

"I promise," Timothee said as he gathered his things and headed out the door.

"Oh and Timothee?"

"Yes?"

"Mr. Applegate tends to be one of the stricter teachers in my school so I would try not to pull anymore stunts like the one you pulled today."

"I promise! Quiet from here on out."

"Good. I believe it will be your lunch in five minutes if you want to head down to the cafeteria. Give Applegate some time to cool off."

"Merci Monsieur!" Timothee said and he was gone.

Mr. Vandigraff, closed the door to his office and made an impressed expression as he repeated, "Monsieur," before shrugging his shoulders and saying, "Has a nice ring to it."

Timothee walked down the yellow hall that was lined on either side with blue lockers. The hallway was empty except for the occasional student walking to and fro from the lavatory. They carried strange objects with them as they went. One girl carried a large wooden paddle while an older boy carried a toilet seat. Each object was labeled in some form or another with bright colorful words that read "Bathroom Pass" and a room number.

"Bathroom pass?" Timothee wondered, "Why would anyone need a pass for that?" But the thought was fleeting as he made his way into the dining hall.

_10 minutes later…_

Five minutes had passed since the bell had rung throughout the school, signaling the end of another period. The cafeteria which had once been empty when Timothee first arrived was now full with students. Timothee sat by himself at a table as he watched students walk around with trays of lunch or small bags of food.

"Where is it?" He thought as he stared at the empty round table before him. He could smell the food ever since he walked in but it hadn't appeared yet. Looking around, he didn't see any elves delivering the food, "How did muggles get their lunches?"

A loud gurgling sound rumbled from deep within his belly, causing Timothee to place a hand on his stomach.

"The food is not just going to magically appear," A girl with brown hair, brown eyes and a short orange flower dress said cheerily.

Timothee looked up from his stomach, surprised that another student was talking to him, "It doesn't? How exactly does one get food then?"

She laughed, "You're funny. The line starts over here. Come with me, I'll show you."

Timothee took note of the way her button nose scrunched when she laughed. It was cute, and so he stood from the table and followed the girl to the other side of the dining hall.

"Jena Barnwell," she said, looking back over her shoulder. Her long brown hair fell down to the middle of her back and slowly swayed from side to side as she walked.

"Timothee Partée," he replied.

"You're accent, is it French?"She noted.

"Wi."

"I've gone to school with most of the kids here since kindergarten. Witchaven isn't that big ya know? So you recognize a new face fairly quickly. Did you come from a big school?"

"It was pretty big. We actually lived at school."

"Oh, so you went to boarding school."

"Something like that."

"I've always heard about boarding school. Was that here in the states or overseas?"

"It was back in the South of France."

Jena's eyes lit up, "South of France! I heard it is beautiful there. I always wanted to go."

They found the end of the line and waited as it slowly snaked through a corridor and towards the clattering sounds of an active kitchen.

It was the first time Timothee had talked to someone who wasn't a teacher or the headmaster. In fact it was the first time in months he had talked to someone who was actually around his age.

"So where do you live?" Jena asked.

"I live with Samuel and Mara Redd," He answered.

"Oh, They are relatively new here as well. They moved to Witchaven a few years back. I love M's Bakery. Every Wednesday my mom picks us up a few of her cupcakes. I didn't know they had a son."

"Well, I'm not actually their son."

"Studying abroad?"

"No… I… well it is complicated."

"Divorce?" Jena asked, her inquisitive expression disappearing as fast as the words came out, "Sorry. You don't have to answer that. Sometimes I talk too much. So how do you like America?"

"It is different."

"Different, as in good or different as in bad?"

"It's…" He hesitated. What he really wanted to tell her was that he missed his friends, he missed his school, his broom, his owl Minuit and most of all he missed magic. There was no way he could tell her that without looking out of his mind and so he kept it in and just nodded, "It's different."

Jena entered the lunch line and turned towards Timothee, she looked as if she was going to say something and paused.

"Wi?" Timothee said.

"Um," Jena replied.

It was a brief pause but long enough for Timothee to feel a sudden rush of anxiety of not knowing what to do next. Rubbing the back of his neck he looked down the lunch line, where he noticed the same two boys from his history class. The boy with the black combed back hair and the boy with the glasses and reddish brown hair. They were both standing next to each other in line and if Timothee would have known any better, he could have sworn they were both staring right at him until he took notice.

"So…" Jena said, "Oh, look at this." She pointed towards a white piece of paper posted to the wall, "Every morning they will announce what they are serving for lunch but just in case you forget or come in late they always post up what they are serving right here on the wall. Today they are serving pizza! Usually they only serve that on Fridays but it's the first day of school so they must be making an exception."

"Délicieux," Timothee said.

"How were meals served in boarding school?"

"Believe it or not we had helpers bring out the food to us and sometimes it would just sort of appear."

"So you guys had servants?"

"Elves," Timothee said.

"Elves?" Jena chuckled in disbelief, "Is that French for helpers? I think elves means something different here in America."

"You know, the small little, how do you say… helpers?"

Jena laughed, "It must have been a pretty fancy place."

"I miss it."

"I bet you miss your friends too."

"I do."

"Well it's okay, Witchaven for the most part is pretty friendly. You will make friends in no time."

They went through the line, with Timothee following Jena's lead. He ordered a square piece of pizza like she did with one large pepperoni in the center.

"If you're lucky sometimes you get two pepperonis!" she explained as she slid her tray over to the drink station that was located next to the cash register. Pulling out a dollar from her pocket, she paid for her lunch.

"That's a dollar even honey!" The lunch lady behind the cash register said. She was an older woman in her fifties wearing a blue apron and bright lime eye shadow.

"I…" He panicked realizing, "I need money for this!" He remembered that Samuel had provided him with money for lunch. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out a few bills and coins and held them forward.

The lunch lady eyed him as he held out the money not knowing what to do with it. Reaching forward, she pulled out a single green dollar and placed it into the register before hitting a key which made a loud "Ka-Ching!"

"Well, I hope you like the pizza," Jena said as they walked in tandem back towards the cafeteria tables, "I sit with my friends over there," She explained, pointing to a table where a bunch of girls sat talking excitedly, "I would invite you to come sit with us but it's kind of a girls only table."

"Oh," Timothee replied.

"I mean you can sit with us if you have no one else but I just don't want you to be the only guy there."

"No it's okay, I have to go to my things anyways."

"Okay," Jena replied, "Well it was really nice meeting you Timothee. I'm sure we will have a class together or something. We have history together at least."

"You were there for that?"

"That's kind of how I recognized you down here."

"That was rough."

"Don't take it personal. Mr. Applegate is like that with everyone."

"Jena!" One of the girls called from the table.

"I have to go!" She said apologetically before walking towards the table.

Timothee watched as she walked to her lunch table and removed a bag from a seat. The two girls that sat on either side made room for Jena to sit down. Leaning over they whispered excitedly into Jena's ear and then to the other girls at the table. One of them looked back at Timothee and giggled before looking back at the others.

"In a lot of ways muggle life is different," Timothee thought, "and in a lot of ways it is the same."

He would have two more classes with Jena, French and Earth Science, where he made it a point to sit next to her in hopes that he would make a new friend.

_Later That Evening_

The murmur of low conversation and the clinking of silverware reverberated throughout the quaint Italian restaurant. The aromas of Italian cuisine saturated the air, making the stomachs of new patrons grumble as they waited for food.

The restaurant was located along the main street of Witchaven and had a large red sign with the words "Casa Della Nonna" painted in white cursive with a clove of garlic, tomatoes and bred on one side and a bottle of wine on the other.

Inside were seven small tables draped with red and white checkered table cloths. Only four of the seven tables were occupied but for a weekday, it was typical business for the small town. Patrons would trickle in and out throughout the night until close at 10pm. On the walls were various paintings and black and white pictures of Italy and the northern Italian town that the Rossi family had immigrated from one generation ago.

Samuel looked at the piece of lined paper that had a large red zero written on it, "Did you not understand the questions?"

"I thought I knew the answers," Timothee said as he twirled the last strand of spaghetti with his metal fork. He watched the pattern the noodle made on the plate in the few remnants of marinara sauce.

"What were the questions?" Mara asked.

"Number one was about a war in the 17th century, two asked about the ruling body of England in the 1700s and… The third was about two muggles who learned how to fly." Timothee rattled off.

Samuel looked at the paper and shrugged his shoulders before handing the paper to Mara, "Well he isn't necessarily wrong. In fact if I were to ask my class those same questions, I'm almost positive that they would probably give me the same answer."

"Yes but he isn't in wizarding school anymore Sam. He is in muggle school," She sighed and turned to Timothee and squeezed his hand, "I know this transition is going to be tough at first. You've lived in a completely different world and you have been taught to think a curtain way your entire life. It will take time to adjust, don't let a simple quiz discourage you."

"Thanks," Timothee said.

"Quiz on the first day," Samuel noted, "Better watch yourself Tim, sounds like that teacher doesn't mess around."

"I will," Timothee replied, although Timothee was keen on not mentioning why there was a quiz on the first day.

Mara took a sip of her water and tucked a brown curl behind her ear before asking, "So did you meet anyone new? Any potential friends?"

"Um…" Timothee paused, "Well I met a girl."

"Ooh. A girl," Samuel smirked as he gave Timothee a playful nudge with his elbow.

Timothee's face turned red.

"Oh stop it Sam," Mara scolded, "Does this girl have a name?"

"Jena?"

"Jena Barnwell?" Mara probed, her big almond eyes lighting up.

"I think so," Timothee nodded.

"She's a lovely girl, I know her mother Cindy. They are regulars at the bakery."

"She showed me how lunch works," Timothee said.

An old heavy set woman wiping her hands on her black apron, with short brown hair and energetic brown eyes strolled over to the table with a large smile on her face.

"Ciao Mara! The cannolis you made for us this week would have even put a smile on mama's face. God rest her soul." she greeted happily with her Italian accent dripping over every word. She leaned down and planted two large kisses on each of Mara's caramel cheeks.

"Thank you Mrs. Rossi," Mara replied, "The food was excellent tonight!"

Mrs. Rossi waved a hand in the air, "Grazie. Can I offer you some cannoli for desert?"

Mara looked over at Samuel who had a large grin on his face, "I think we will take three!"

"It's on the house!" Mrs. Rossi said as she turned to the kitchen and held up three fingers, "And who is a this strong young man?"

Samuel placed a hand on Timothee's back, "This is Timothee. He is living with us. He came from France."

"Francia! It's a very beautiful country." She said excitedly and walked over and placed a kiss on the cheeks of Timothee before pressing them together, "Any family to Mara is a family to Rossi. You come in any time if you are hungry."

Letting go of Timothee's face, Mrs. Rossi let out a long deep yawn, "Scusami, Mama Rossi has been working all day. I have to go back to the kitchen but you enjoy your dessert. Can I expect another order on Monday Mara?"

"Absolutely," Mara replied.

"Bene," Mrs. Rossi said before turning and greeting another table.

"She's so lovely," Mara said as a young waiter placed three cannolis on their table. The delicate pastry had a hard outer shell filled with cream and a light chocolate drizzled over the top.

"So, Jena," Mara said as she cracked into the shell with her fork.

"She was nice enough to show me where the lunch was, nothing more," Timothee said.

"Well, that was nice of her," Mara replied, "Did you get a chance to meet anyone else?"

"No."

"How do you like your classes?" Samuel asked.

"It will take some getting used to. There's no," Timothee said as he searched to clarify his thoughts.

"Magic?" Samuel guessed.

"Yes," Timothee realized, "I miss spells and potions and mystical creatures. I miss my friends and I miss quidditch."

"Well there are plenty of muggle sports you could try out for," Mara suggested.

"I don't have any idea how to play muggle sports. I wouldn't know where to start."

"It's okay. You will have a class called physical education which will teach you muggle sports."

Timothee nodded his head but inside he didn't want to have to change. He didn't want to make new friends or start a new school. He wanted his old life back with his old friends, his old school and his old classes. And sure there were difficult professors at Pursang like Professor Moreau and Professor Lillyhammer but at the end of the day they were a part of his world. For that simple fact, he could connect with them better than any "teacher" he would have at Witchaven high.

"How could one night ruin my entire life?" Timothee lamented silently.

Chapter 7

The Only One

The cool Parisian summer wind made the moist spot on Timothee's cheek feel cold as the wind swept over his face and ran through his hair. The golden glow of lights dotted the landscape below.

"Save her," the wind whispered in his ear as he watched the mysterious girl in the black dress turn and walk away.

"Elawin!" He shouted but it seemed as if she couldn't hear him. Everything seemed so foggy, so unclear. He watched her black dress flutter in the wind as her raven hair whipped along her back.

"Save her!" the wind beckoned a second time.

"Elawin!" Timothee pleaded. He wanted to walk to her, run to her, stop her from what she was going to do but his legs, his legs wouldn't budge. He fought to free them as he looked down, it felt as if they were bound in a leg locker curse, "Elawin please!"

Turning her head around, a single glacial blue eye met his as a tear rolled down her cheek. Her fearful gaze pleaded for him to stop her and yet she still turned towards the railing, "I'm sorry…" she muttered.

"Save her!" The wind hushed.

"I can't," Timothee cried as he watched her grip the railing on the Eiffel Tower.

A long slender porcelain leg slipped out from under the dress and onto the twisted black metal guard railing. She swayed to gain her balance as she climbed.

"Elawin!" Timothee called, "Don't!"

"Save her!" The wind seemed to howl, "Save her! Save her! SAVE HER!"

"I can't!" Timothee shouted.

"Make her stop!" the wind hushed.

"How?" Timothee shouted but just then Elawin's words seemed to echo in his head, "Have you ever done something unforgivable?"

Reaching into his robes he pulled out an eleven inch ebony wand, oh how good it felt to have his wand back in his hands. He remembered every groove, every worn spot in the handle as he gazed at it longingly. How smooth the ebony wood on the handle had become from years of use.

Elawin let out a delicate gasp as she extended her hands out and swayed back and forth over the ledge. The sprawling city was breathtaking over nine hundred feet below. At this height the people looked like small black ants as they moved about. All it would take was one gust of wind and she would be sent tumbling into the night.

"You know what to do!" A hushed voice instructed, "It's the only way!"

Timothee looked down at his wand before looking back at Elawin who struggled to stay balanced. Without warning a strong gust hit them causing her to tip forward.

"NO!" Timothee yelled.

There was a loud crack, a defining boom and a blinding flash as all the windows in the class room flew open. Timothee felt himself launch backwards in his chair and hit his head against the back wall of the classroom. His desk, along with the desks in his row, book bags, papers and pencils went flying towards the front of the class room.

"What in the world?" Mr. Applegate said, spinning away from the hunter green chalkboard. The class exploded in hushed whispers as one boy shouted, "What was that?"

Some of the kids ahead of Timothee turned around and looked at him accusingly. Just then a second flash of light filled the room, followed by the low droning booms of thunder as a late summer storm began to roll in.

Timothee rubbed the back of his head which pounded from where he had hit it, "Did I do that?" He whispered quietly. Looking down at his open palms and examining them.

"Calm down now class, it's just a summer storm," Mr. Applegate ordered as he placed a small white piece of chalk on its' tray and began to close the windows one by one, "Jonathan, Timothee, can you get those windows at the end."

Timothee nodded and stood from his disheveled desk. He swayed heavily to one side as dizziness threw him off center. Grabbing the black framed window, he pulled it down before he returned to his desk where he and the other students gathered their things that had been scattered about.

"Did I perform magic?" He thought as his eyes locked with Jena's who mouthed the words, "Are you okay?"

Just behind Jena were two other students sitting on the other side of the classroom. It was the same two boys who had been ogling him the day before. Their look wasn't one of worry but more of inquisition. It was just at the moment the bell rang over the loud speaker.

Placing his notebook in his bag, Timothee slung it over his shoulder and scuttled out of the class with the other students.

He rubbed the dull thudding spot on the back of his head as he weaved about through the slow dredging herd of students, "What did I do?" he wondered, "It couldn't have been magic, I don't even have a wand."

A strange sensation of being watched tugged at him to turn around where his inclination proved true. It was the same two boys from his class.

"What do they want?" he thought as he quickened his pace through the mass of students in the hallway. He dodged left as a girl went towards her blue locker and weaved right as a taller student, a senior in a letterman jacket, tossed a football in the air and caught it.

"Pardon," Timothee said as his French accent weighed heavily on his pronunciation. Peering over his shoulder, he was definitely being followed as the other boys kept pace.

"Oh no," He panicked, "What if they are with the ministry and sent to spy on me? What if they saw me do… well… whatever I did in the classroom and they are here to haul me off to Azkaban?"

Banking hard to the left, he leaped down the stairwell two at a time, nearly running into a teacher.

"Hey, Partée! No running in the hall!" Mr. Vandigraff shouted.

Timothee froze and gave an apologetic nod towards the principle before he realized, "Ha, I don't know what they want but they won't do anything in front of Mr. Vandigraff!"

The two pursuing boys were breathing hard as they too almost ran into the same teacher in the stairwell and received the same reprimanding shout from Mr. Vandigraff who was monitoring the entrance to the cafeteria.

They looked at Timothee from the top of the step and he looked right back at them. The taller boy with the slick black hair exchanged a glance with the shorter boy with auburn hair and glasses.

"Do we have a problem boys?" Mr. Vandigraff asked as he eyed the faceoff at the bottom of the stairwell.

All three boys shook their heads' no.

"Good. No horse play in the halls. You nearly knocked poor Mrs. Needery down the steps. Be careful."

"Sorry monsieur," Timothee said.

Mr. Vandigraff cracked a half smile before something caught his attention in the cafeteria. He disappeared through the kitchen yelling, "Hey, I thought I made it clear! Students are not permitted to use the tunnel Mr. Smith!"

The two boys at the top of the staircase walked down the steps side by side, as they approached Timothee.

"What?" Timothee asked, balling his fists in preparation for a fight, "What do you want?"

They stopped and examined him closely as if they were waiting for something to happen. And that is when Timothee realized, "They are weary of me. They don't want to fight me, they are scared of me."

Timothee relaxed his fists and let out a soft sigh of relief, "Who are they?" he thought.

The boy with black hair, blue eyes and a worn red t-shirt with yellow sleeves and faded jeans asked, "Timothee right?"

"Yes," Timothee answered.

The smaller boy with glasses wore a blue long sleeve shirt with bronze corduroys. He narrowed the distance between himself and Timothee until they were only inches away. He looked around to see if anyone was watching before whispering, "You know magic."

Timothee's jaw dropped, "How did these muggles know of magic?"

"You thought you were the only one, huh?" The taller boy in red smirked.

Timothee stammered.

"Well you're not," The smaller boy in blue said, "Maybe you should sit with us today."


	3. Partee Child Part 3

Chapter 8

Three of a kind

"Archimedes Antonopoulos," The boy with the auburn hair and thick black framed glasses said as he extended a hand. He had light red freckles on his cheeks and nose, with straight hair that was parted on the right side. His vocal registry was a little high and his voice tended to crack with curtain words.

"Archimedes Antonopolopolous?" Timothee tried to say with abysmal success.

"Antonopoulos. It's spelled, A-n-t-o-"

"No one cares how it's spelled Archie." The taller boy said as he pulled out a brown paper bag. He unrolled the top, looked inside and shook his head, "I'm Theodore Bruder but you can call me Theo. The elf sitting on the other side of you is Archie."

"Hey, my mom says I haven't had my growth spurt yet," Archie protested.

"You're wizards?" Timothee asked hesitantly.

"I'm a muggle," Archie explained as he pulled out a blue metal lunch tin with the American flag painted on it and a plaid thermos, "Theo's the wizard and Abby is a witch."

"Abby?" Timothee said.

"Yeah but she doesn't like that name. So only call her by her full name, Abigail or you could end up getting socked in the arm." Archie explained as he rubbed his arm and grimaced, remembering old encounters.

Theo pulled out a soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich before looking over, "Hey Archie, you have anything good?"

"Some Berties?" Archie offered.

"Nah," Theo said, "I always get the bad flavors like dirt or sardines. You know, they say every flavor bean but where are all the good flavors?"

Archie tossed one over, "Well, what about this red one?"

"Ah what the heck, why not," Theo said as he caught it out of the air and popped it into his mouth. His face turned red as he began to cough violently.

"What was it?" Archie asked, trying to stifle his laughter.

"Atomic sauce!" Theo wheezed.

"GOD I HATE LATIN!" A girl with jet black hair, light skin and vibrant green eyes cursed as she slammed a pile of heavy books on the table. On top of her stack of weathered books was a black leather baseball mitt. She had an emerald green streak in her hair that matched her eyes. The lock of hair ran down the left side of her bangs and ended in a curl. She wore a black and green paisley shirt and black pants.

"I'm going to get lunch." She declared.

"That's Abby" Archie said.

The girls head snapped back as her eyes looked on with a fiery gaze.

"I mean Abigail! Abigail!"

"You're still getting one in the arm for that Arch!" Abigail shouted over her shoulder before disappearing in the direction of the lunch line.

"Oh great," Archie grimaced.

"So where are you from?" Theo asked in between bites of his PB&amp;J.

Timothee looked down at his lunch that consisted of parmesan chicken from last night's meal, "France."

"No, not where you are from," Theo said, "Where are you from?"

"Paris?"

"No…" Theo replied annoyed this time, "Where are you from?"

Timothee paused and looked over at Archie who was pouring chicken noodle soup from his thermos, "I don't understand."

"He means what school," Archie impulsively answered, "I think you're a Beauxbaton but Theo thinks your something else. He claims that only girls go to Beauxbaton because all he has met are girls from there but I told him that I read in a book that boys go there too."

"Oh," Timothee said, "Pursang."

"Ha! Take that Arch!" Theo smiled, "And they say you are the brain, well watch out."

Archie capped his thermos and put it back in his bag, "Oh please, you didn't know he went to Pursang. You probably don't even know where Pursang is!"

"So what? I just knew he didn't go to Beauxbaton that's all."

"Well it's in the south of France, high in the Alps," Archie said turning to Timothee, "But you already knew that of course because you went there. Chocolate frog?"

"Really?" Timothee said, unable to contain his excitement, "Merci."

Archie pulled out the purple and gold pentagonal candy box, "Only under one condition."

"What?"

"If it is Dumbledore or Merlin inside, I get the card. They are the last two I need for my collection."

"Of course," Timothee answered, taking the candy from Archie.

Archie ladled his soup with his spoon, "Oh, and don't let the frog get away. Mr. Cyprus, our eighth grade math teacher nearly lost his marbles when Theo let a frog get away last year."

Theo started to laugh, "You should have seen his face!"

Archie shook his head and chuckled, "No you should have seen his face when Theo over there put the frog in his mouth and ate it. Mr. Cyprus turned greener than an actual frog!"

"You guys telling the Cyprus frog story again?" Abigail said as she placed her baby blue tray with two neatly folded tacos onto the table with a small juice carton on the corner.

Theo nodded.

THWAP!

"Ahhhh!" Archie hissed as he rubbed the meat of his upper arm.

"Told you not to call me that name anymore!" Abigail yelled.

"Alright, Alright!" Archie cowed.

"You're the new kid right?" Abigail said, looking over at Timothee.

"Yes," he replied.

"Huh," Abigail said, cracking a half smile, "I heard what happened to you in Applegate's class."

Timothee sighed and shook his head.

Abigail leaned over, "Don't worry. He is like that with everyone."

Theo chuffed, "You should have seen what happened today."

Timothee popped a piece of chicken parmesan in his mouth, "Can I ask you a question?"

Abigail shrugged her shoulders, "shoot."

"Shoot?" Timothee repeated.

"It means go ahead," Archie explained.

"Why do you not like the name Abby?" Timothee asked.

Abigail glared, "You get a free pass this time but next time you get it like Archie over there."

"It's what her parents call her," Theo answered, "They call her A… that name, and so we kind of teased her about it until she started giving us Charlie horses."

"Oh," Timothee said, as he pulled open the packaging to the chocolate frog. The small frog inside let out a small "ribbit!" and took a large hop towards the center of the table. With blinding speed, Timothee's hand shot out and caught the frog mid leap.

"Wow! Fast," Archie said in awe, "Seeker?"

"Beater," Timothee answered as he popped the frog in his mouth.

"Well with reflexes like that, you could have been a seeker." Archie assured, "Who did you get? Remember our deal."

"It is," Timothee said as he peered down. It was a woman with blonde hair, a blue dress and a long wooden staff. Timothee knew who it was just by the picture but he turned the card over just to be sure, "Morgana le Fay."

"I have a few of her, you can keep that one if you'd like." Archie said before going back to his lunch.

"She's my favorite," Abigail said as she chewed her piece of taco.

"Want it?" Timothee offered.

"Sure," She said cheerily before flipping the card over and reading the back.

"So where did you go Theo?" Timothee asked, "I mean, where are you from?"

"Salem," He answered.

"Why did you leave?"

Theo looked away, "Stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Just stuff. It's a long story."

"And you Abigail?" Timothee asked.

"Never went," She answered.

"Why not?" Timothee said.

"My older sister went to Salem and ended up a daffodil. A potion she was brewing one summer went awry. It terrified my parents who are both muggles. They didn't know what to do. The wizards and witches over at the hospital are still trying to make a counter potion for her. It kind of terrified them so when I got my letter I decided not to go."

"Do you regret it?" Timothee asked.

"Kind of, but both my parents were muggles so I live a pretty normal life." Abigail shrugged, "what you gonna do, right?"

"That leaves me," Archie said, "I know you are probably wondering. How in the world does a muggle know about magic. Your first guess is that I am probably a squib but I can tell you that you are wrong."

"Up, here he goes," Abigail said, rolling her eyes.

Archie perked up with a bit of pride, "I discovered the magical world. That's right! All on my own in a book."

"A Book?" Timothee said.

"A Book!" Archie repeated, "When I was thirteen, I went to Jo's Nook. You know, the used bookstore next to Danny's Diner? Anyway, I was just walking the isles trying to see if anything would catch my eye. People are always bringing in new books, trading in old books, you know I actually found a first edition Hemingway once? Jo, she owns the place, she couldn't believe it when I showed her! She's always telling me to read anything I can get my hands on."

"Ugh, get on with it!" Abigail hissed.

"Okay, okay…" Archie said, "I get distracted. I saw a book on the top shelf on the Apollo Missions. I loved space, until I found out about magic and so I knew that is what I wanted to read next. I was too short to reach the top so I tried to climb."

Theodore cracked a half smile, "You're still too short Arch!"

Archie ignored the comment as he began to reach out into the air as if he were in the bookstore again, "I reached and reached until the tips of my fingers pawed at the bindings. Climbing up another shelf, I grabbed it! That's when I heard the shelf under my left foot begin to make this cracking sound, soon it was followed by the shelving under my right foot and before I knew it, the whole thing came crashing down on me like an avalanche! I was nearly buried alive! Jo ran back to see what was going on but I assured her I was alright and told her not to worry, I would put all the books back. She checked me out to make sure I was okay before heading back to the front of the store. I started to stack the books when I picked up a large worn brown book with the most peculiar title, Magical History Brought to Life Part 2. Have you heard of it?"

Timothee shook his head "no."

"Me neither, at first I thought it was fiction. So I decided to open it and that's when it happened!" Archie said with his eyes wide.

"What?" Timothee asked.

"I was sucked right in the book and found myself in a grassy field! It was a cool misty morning, overcast, and a slight drizzle fell from the sky. Out of nowhere a small yellow bird flew passed my head in a hurry and before I knew what was happening, a whole heard of wizards flying on brooms flew right passed me! They flew right through me as though I were a ghost or something. I couldn't believe it! I was so shocked I didn't know what was going on and within a few moments I flew out of the book and was back in the bookstore again. I stood there and had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dead. When I looked back at the book the page read, 'The Merciful Moddest Rabnott.' From then on out I was hooked and turned page after page, getting sucked in and not only learning about magic but actually living it. Magic is like a familiar smell that you can recognize anywhere, a voice that sticks out in a sea of people or a flavor that you absolutely love, it always finds a way to stick out. That's how I knew you must have been a wizard."

"By my smell?" Timothee asked.

"No," Theo said, "It was the way you answered that test. No muggle in their right mind would put a broom as something someone could fly on."

"Oh," Timothee replied.

Theo patted Timothee on the back, "Well that, and the magic you performed in class today."

Abigail looked over in surprise, "Wait, he performed in a class?"

"You should have seen it. Nearly blew the windows out of Applegate's class!" Theo laughed.

"I did?" Timothee said, "That's impossible. I didn't have a wand."

"You don't need a wand to perform magic Timothee," Archie explained.

Timothee looked down at his hands, "I don't?"

Theo leaned in, "Magic isn't in a wand otherwise anyone could pick one up and cast a spell. Magic is something within you. Sometimes we forget that."

Timothee looked confused.

Theo reached into his pocket and pulled out a yellow pencil and placed it on the lunch table. Aiming his pointer finger at the pencil he rotated his finger in small concentric circles, "An artist doesn't need a brush to create a masterpiece and a composer doesn't need a single instrument to create a symphony. A writer doesn't need a pen to write an epic," With his other hand Theo pointed to his heart, "It's all in here. Brushes, trumpets, pens… a wand, they are all tools that we use to share what is already inside of us."

Timothee looked down and to his amazement the pencil was spinning in synch with Theo's finger.

Chapter 9

Watch Closely

Timothee and Theo stood in the open green outfield of a baseball diamond just outside school. The storm that had blown through earlier was gone, and except for the damp grass below their feet, the sky gave no indication of the storm that had passed through.

Theo blocked the sun from his eyes with his baseball glove as he watched all the action in the infield. Scratching his calf with the toe of his sneaker he turned to Timothee, "His name is Kevin Peterson and he works at Precious Boutique on Main Street. It's a store his family owns. He's the one who can get us Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Botts or even Fizzing Whizzbees. You name it he can get it, although sometimes it takes a little bit longer for stuff other than candy."

Timothee examined the oversized brown leather baseball glove that he wore on his left hand. It was heavy with intricate weaving between his pointer finger and thumb, "How does Kevin get all those things?"

"He has an uncle who is a wizard. Every Monday, his uncle's owl flies in and drops off what he requests."

"Owls. I miss my owl," Timothee thought. He watched as the kids in his class stood on tan bags that they called "bases."

"There goes another!" One boy shouted as he beat his fist into his glove.

"She's got a mean curveball!" Another boy yelled as he raked one shoe in the dirt like a bull and adjusted his baseball cap.

They were all talking about Abigail, who stood at the pitcher's mound nodding or shaking her head at the catcher. Not one student could hit the ball when she threw it. The ball would dip and dive, curve and swerve in every direction.

"She's good right?" Theo noted.

"Yes," Timothee replied, "I wish I could put that kind of spin on a quaffle."

Theo leaned in and whispered, "It's magic."

"What? How?"

"She doesn't do it all the time," Theo grinned, "But she can put a little extra curve on the ball if she needs to. Just watch and see if you can notice the flight path change."

Timothee watched Abigail as she threw two more students out. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The first student was too eager and swung early every time and the second student just missed the angle of the curveball. It wasn't until the third student that he saw it. It was the tiniest of changes but it was there. An unnatural change in direction as if an outside force was guiding the ball.

Timothee looked at Theo.

"See!" Theo said excitedly, "It's not every time but if one gets away from her, she can rein it back in."

"I didn't know you could do magic like that."

"It's not refined. It's actually pretty hard to control. If she's not careful she can curve that ball in a clear circle around the mound."

Timothee squinted again as she threw another pitch, "But how does she do it and how did you move the pencil at lunch? How is any of this possible?"

"Archie says it's like casting a Patronus Charm, whatever that means. You have to find something inside of you, some memory or some emotion and then you sort of direct it. It doesn't always go as planned, especially when you first start. I nearly set my house on fire and Abigail says she pushed a lamp into her bedroom wall."

Timothee slowly nodded, still unsure of what Theo was trying to explain.

"You doing anything after school?" Theo asked.

Timothee shook his head no.

"Well that's perfect then. We were planning on heading over to Kevin's shop before heading to our spot."

"What spot?" Timothee asked.

Theo placed a hand over his eyes to block out the sun, "Uh oh. Better get ready to catch the ball if it comes to us."

"What is it?" Timothee asked.

"Vance Marlett," Theo said, "They call him Rocket. He's a complete jock. Good at all sports but he is really good at football and baseball. Although… well he isn't too popular these days."

Timothee looked towards home plate where he watched a massive older teen approach the plate. Even from the outfield, Timothee noticed how "the Rocket" towered over the catcher. He was a colossus and his red hair was visible from afar.

"He's in our class?" Timothee asked.

"No," Theo answered, "Knowing him, he probably saw Abigail strike out the other kids and decided to take a swing even after she had three strike outs. I hope she strikes him out too!"

"Come on Abigail!" the boy on third base shouted.

"You can do it!" A girl from first encouraged.

Abigail pulled out a black Victorian vintage key and gave it a small kiss before tucking it back into her shirt. She tucked the emerald streak of hair behind one ear and raised her glove to her face. She shook her head once, then twice before finally getting a call that she liked. It happened in a flash, the ball whizzing towards the catcher's mitt, making a loud "thwap!" as it hit the pocket. Vance's bat went whirling around in a blinding circle as he hit nothing but air.

"Strike one!" The gym teacher said from behind the plate in his khaki shorts and black polo shirt.

Abigail let out a long exhale as she set herself again on the mound.

"Come on Abigail!" Theo yelled, "Only two more!"

This time she agreed with the first pitch suggested by the catcher and wound up again before sending the ball hurtling on its' way. Rocket watched as the ball sailed high and left, followed by the call of "Ball one!"

By now a few older boys showed up who seemed to cheer and chide the Rocket. An upper classman, Phillip Tolbey, joked, "Hey Rocket, are you going to let a girl strike you out? Might kick you off the team for that!" followed by a few laughs from his classmates. The tall red headed teen gave a searing glare to the boys that were laughing and they instantly fell silent. He looked back at Abigail with his nostrils flaring and his grey eyes silently glowing with an intense fury.

Abigail's second pitch dipped low and away as Vance "the Rocket" Marlett swung wildly for it. He missed again, nearly spinning out of his own shoes.

"Strike two!" The gym teacher, Mr. Stein howled.

"She's going to do it!" Timothee thought, "She only needs one more strike!"

Abigail once again took her stance, she adjusted the ball in her hand as she prepared for her final pitch. She let it go with all her might and the ball came flying out a little higher than normal. Timothee noticed the correction as she used her magic to push the ball back towards the catcher. There was a deafening "Crack!" as small bits of wood exploded in every direction. Timothee and Theo's head instantly went towards the sky as they watched the white ball fly towards them, fly over them and sadly fly passed them.

"My gosh!" Mr. Stein said as he watched the white baseball disappear off of school grounds and across the street, "That's over four hundred feet! Kid you should be in the majors."

But Rocket kept silent as he tossed the splintered remnants of his bat with no interest in running the bases. His grey eyes locked with Abigail who stood on the mound with her lips pursed and that's when it happened. The corner of Rocket's mouth went up in the slightest of grins. Abigail returned with a nod before readjusting her hat and turning away.

Mr. Stein looked at his watch before yelling, "Class is over, back to the locker rooms!"

Theo turned to Timothee before jogging toward the school, "We meet up at the statue in front of town hall after school. See you there!"

Chapter 10

The Curse

"It was the night of the big game and he missed it," Theo explained as they approached the bronze statue in front of town hall. The three cherubs glistened a metallic brown as drops of rain ran down their trumpets. In the background, the tall colonial town hall loomed over them all with its white siding and triangular bell tower. The large bells rang four times and the droning of its' bells reverberated for miles in every direction.

Timothee saw Archie and Abigail amongst the sea of students that were heading home for the day. Arhie had his nose in a book while Abigail tossed a baseball into her black leather mitt.

"I was this close!" Abigail said as she held her fingers only millimeters apart, "I thought I had him beat!"

"I thought so too," Theo said.

"She won't stop talking about it," Archie whined, "You almost struck out the Rocket, but he ended up creaming one out of the park, what's new?"

"Because she was closer than anyone before her I bet," Theo argued, "Are you going to tryout for the team this year?"

Abigail nodded enthusiastically, "When I first talked to Mr. Stein, he wanted me to tryout for softball but after today, he says I could be a relief pitcher on boys Junior Varsity baseball!"

"That's awesome!" Theo said.

"Boys Junior Varsity?" Timothee asked.

"It's like making the back up to the house team. You see there are Freshman, Junior Varsity and then Varsity. She might be Varsity as a sophomore if she could learn to control her magic."

Abigail looked over at Theo unimpressed, "I'm better than you!"

"Whoopdy doo! Sports!" Archie sighed, "Can we head over to Kevin's now?"

"What's got you in such a sour mood Arch?" Theo asked.

"It's the second day of class and I already have homework. I shouldn't have taken all those advanced classes that the councilor suggested."

"Why don't you drop a few?" Abigail asked, "I'm thinking of dropping Latin."

"My parents would never let me drop a class," Archie sighed, "Plus you need to keep studying Latin so that you can do spells later. Most spells root from Latin."

"It's true," Timothee added.

They walked down the main street towards the Boutique, passing a few groups of students on their way.

Precious Boutiques was a small store in the town of Witchaven that had a blue sign with white lettering and a tea cup painted on either side. Walking into the store, a small bell chimed over head. The store was filled with rows of finely crafted knickknacks made from porcelain and other fragile materials. A crystal bowl with a light shining over head caught Timothee's eye as he watched the various fractal colors shoot out in every direction.

"Be careful not to knock anything over in this place," Archie warned, "These things cost an arm and a leg."

"Hey guys! And Miss!" A man called from behind a counter. He was a stout man with a short trimmed beard to hide his double chin and he wore square framed glasses. In his hands he had a comic book with two large yellow glowing eyes and "Loup Garou" written on top in jagged crimson lettering.

"Hi Kevin!" They replied in unison.

"Who's the new kid?" Kevin asked, staring at Timothee.

Theo walked over and rested an elbow against the counter, "Kevin, meet Timothee Partée. A full blown pure blood."

Kevin checked Timothee over, "Pure blood huh? What brings you to a small town like this?"

"Kicked out of wizarding school," Theo answered as he checked out the cover of Kevin's magazine.

"Oh great another delinquent like you Theo?" Kevin said with a playful grin, "What they get you for? Turning your teacher into a pocket watch? Blowing up the headmaster's office?"

"I didn't actually get kicked out of wizarding school. I was barred from magic for using an unforgivable curse," Timothee admitted. He felt his face turn warm.

Kevin dropped his magazine, "Wow, That's heavy."

Archie looked up from his book, "You didn't tell us that."

Kevin gave a nervous laugh before lowering his voice, "You didn't like Avada anyone or anything right? You're not a dark…"

"No! It's not what you think," Timothee said, cutting him off, "It's a long story."

"Hey, no judgment here," Kevin said, "Just don't turn me into a toad or have me eat slugs or something."

"Hey, he is all clear," Theo insisted, "Good guy material like the rest of us."

Kevin gave a small salute, "Sure, whatever you say boss. So, who wants their stuff?"

Abigail, Archie and Theo's face lit up.

Kevin ducked under the counter and came up with a large brown sack that he up ended over the counter. All sorts of candies and sweets came tumbling out onto the counter and all three teens eagerly started dividing them up.

"Take what you want before these three take all the good stuff" Kevin said, inviting Timothee to the pile.

"I didn't bring any money," Timothee confessed.

"Money? I get this stuff for free from my uncle over at Sleepy Hollow. I wouldn't charge you guys for this stuff unless you wanted something a little more pricey."

Timothee walked over to the pile and grabbed a chocolate frog, "What else could you get?"

"Well, anything really. I mean I'm not gonna snag you a chimera or anything that is really dangerous. But I can swing most potion ingredients, joke shop stuff, games like Wizard's Chess. Archie over here is looking for some kind of history book," Kevin explained.

"Magical History Brought to Life Part 1 by Bartholomew Henry Periwinkle," Archie rattled off as he grabbed a package of Jelly Slugs. He gave the pack of slugs a close examination before shaking his head and handing them over to Abigail who happily accepted them.

"I thought you already had that book Archie?" Timothee asked as he grabbed a sugar quill and slid it into his pocket.

"I have part two but I would like to get my hands on part one," Archie explained, "Bartholomew Henry Periwinkle is going to be at Sleepy Hollow next month for a book signing. I think we should go."

"How would we do that?" Theo asked.

"Simple," Archie said, "We get someone to smuggle us into the ghost town."

"You really think that is possible?" Abigail asked.

"Sure, why not?" Archie said, "There are tons of smugglers in the magical world, plant smugglers, creature smugglers, potion smugglers. Timothee, you probably can attest."

Timothee nodded.

Kevin smiled, "I'm kind of like a candy smuggler."

Archie pointed at Kevin, "My point exactly, Candy smuggler, standing before our very eyes. You better watch it Kevin, they could send you to Azkaban for it."

"I will ask my uncle if he knows a guy… Oh and before I forget," Kevin said as he ducked back under the counter and came up with a rack of glass vials that were filled with a bluish silver swirling liquid, "One order of Wizergen potion."

Timothee picked up a vial, "Wizergen?" He read the small printed label:

Wizergen

The Potion that keeps you Going All DaY and Night!

Great for Long Nights of Brooding, Studying for O.W.L's, Prepping for N.E.W.T's and countering Sleeping Spells, Curses and limited Poisons.

Warning: Does not work against the Draft of Sleeping Death. Do not exceed one Vial per day or risk intensive insomnia. Does contain: Dragon Blood, Boom Berry, Peppermint, Leaping Toadstool, Honey, Kangaroo Mouse Saliva and Blue no. 3

"It keeps you awake," Abigail explained before she pulled back on a green Jelly slug between her teeth, snapping it in two.

"To study for exams?" Timothee said.

Kevin looked at Archie with a surprised expression, "You didn't tell him?"

"What?" Archie protested.

Kevin's gaze transferred to Abigail and Theo who looked away as if to make them seem more innocent.

Timothee looked from his classmates back to Kevin, "Tell me what?"

Kevin leaned in and waved Timothee closer as he whispered, "This whole town is cursed."

Timothee felt a strange sinking feeling in his stomach, "cursed?" he thought, "surely I would have noticed a curse. Have I been away from magic that long?" He looked back to Kevin, "What kind of curse?"

Kevin stood straight back up, "That's the thing, we do not know exactly. Archie was the first to notice it. He can explain it better than I can."

Archie held up the book he had been reading earlier for Timothee to read.

"Libatius Borage's Advanced Potion Making." Timothee read aloud.

Archie pulled the book back, "I was reading this last spring when I got to the section on sleeping potions, venoms, curses and poisons. In here, Labatius explains the difference between all four and that's when I first noticed it. Not only was I cursed but the entire town!"

"But how?" Timothee asked.

"A yawn," Archie said.

"A yawn?" Timothee repeated.

Archie opened up a section he had bookmarked in Libatius Borage's Advanced Potion Making and held it up for Timothee to read.

"_Although the symptoms may be indistinguishably analogous amongst sleeping potions, venoms, curses and poisons, it is a wizard's utmost duty to recognize the distinguishable traits in said group:_

_Sleeping Drafts: __Generated through the combination of assorted ingredients in order to create the effect of slumber. This effect can range from seconds to centuries depending on potency and efficacy. Example: Draught of Living Death_

_Venoms: __It is the source that makes this group distinguishable. Whereas the others are generated through the combination of various elements synthetic or natural, venoms are purely generated by creatures magical or otherwise. Such creatures include but are not limited to: Alps, Bakus and Vampires_

_Curses: __Throughout magical history, there are many sources that can generate the outcome of slumber. The sources from curses tend to stem form magical spells and/or enchantments. Where sleeping drafts, Venoms and poisons are limited by a quantity to victim ratio, curses can effect entire populations. Example_

_The Enchanted Harp of Langville_

_Poisons:__ Generated with the intent to harm. Often with the intention of lethality and sourced from potions which can include venoms._

_Classic tell tale signs of these curious entities include but are not limited to fatigue, drowsiness, excessive slumber, reactionary yawning, sleep paralysis, and narcolepsy._

"So how exactly did this help you figure out that we were all cursed?" Timothee asked.

Archie closed the book, "Well I didn't know immediately. It was last year in Mr. Cyprus' class when I yawned. Normally I wouldn't care about such trivial things but then I noticed as one by one every student in my class followed suit. Like a wave that swept across the class. Eventually Mr. Cyprus himself was showing his tonsils to the class. And so I did it again. I let out a yawn and watched as it traveled across the room and that's when I remembered it, Classic tell tale signs of sleeping drafts, venoms, curses and poisons included reactionary yawning!"

"Maybe everyone was just tired?" Timothee said.

"That's what I said!" Theo added.

"Before that may have been the case but I can prove it," Archie explained.

"How?" Timothee asked.

"Yeah, how?" Abigail said as she finished off a jelly slug.

Kevin leaned in, "Archie you've been working on this thing for the whole summer. How did you figure it out?"

"Do you have a glass of water?" Archie asked.

"Sure," Kevin replied. He turned from the countertop and walked through the back entrance of the store.

Archie leaned over to the radio on the table and turned up the volume dial. A popular rock song about a "crying hound dog," began to blare.

"One glass of water," Kevin said as he returned with a clear glass that was three quarters full.

"Perfect," Archie said as he lifted up the glass and examined it over the frame of his glasses, "What is the one property that magic has, that affects the muggle world?"

Archie looked over at the blank stares of the others, "Come on guys, this one is easy. I couldn't believe we didn't see it the entire time."

Archie took the glass and held it over the radio which began to crackle and hiss.

"I don't get it," Abigail said.

"Well how about that!" Kevin laughed.

Archie's grin grew into a full on smile.

"Magic affects electronics!" Archie explained as he pulled the glass away from the radio and the hissing slowly dwindled away. He proceeded to hold the glass over a small lamp on the counter. Instantly the orange blub dimmed.

"Let me see that," Theo said and Archie handed him the glass. He held it over the radio, which again began to hiss with static.

Timothee looked to Archie, "There is something in the water?"

"Bingo!" Archie said, "I don't know what it is, but clearly something is there."

"Guess I'm only drinking the bottled stuff," Kevin noted.

"You got that right," Abigail added.

Theo removed the glass and waved his hand over the radio which remained clear. Theo then focused on the radio and squinted his eyes. The radio began to crackle and hiss louder and louder until the song that had been playing was completely lost in static.

"Hey," Kevin yelled, grabbing the radio and moving it from the counter, "Don't blow it out."

"Sorry," Theo said turning to Archie, "What do we do now?"

"Well for starters, we can figure out who has been spiking our water," Archie explained, "But more importantly, we need to figure out why they are doing it."

"Any ideas?" Kevin asked.

Archie thought hard as he pursed his lips together before his eyes lit up, "I think I know of a way that we can figure out when the potion is being added."

"How?" Timothee asked.

"Well," Archie said, taking the water from the counter and holding it up, "If it is a sleeping draft that is being added to the water, like any solute, it is going to dissipate over time when the volume of the solvent is increased or in our case flushed."

"How about in normal people language," Theo said, "Some of us don't speak nerd."

Archie nodded his head, "Right. Think of the Witchaven water supply as a bathtub that is being filled with water and being drained at the same time. New water is coming in while old water is going out. If you added food coloring to the tub, the water will change color at first but over time it's going to return to clear as the dye goes down the drain. The only way to maintain the level of color is by adding more food coloring."

"And so the food coloring is the potion?" Abigail asked.

"Exactly!" Archie answered, "All we have to do is monitor the dissipating levels of magic in the water. Then when the magic level spikes again, we know that whoever it is, must have tampered with the Witchaven water supply."

"Okay but how do you monitor the level of magic in the water Arch?" Kevin asked.

"Simple," Archie said, "We measure the electromagnetic interference!"

"The electro what?" Theo said.

"The level of interference that the magic has on electrical devices. Each day I will put a glass of water over a radio and record how much static is generated from day to day. Then I can replay the two recordings and determine if the interference has either gone up or gone down."

"You're such a brain," Abigail said.

"Of course he is," Theo said, placing an arm over Archie's shoulder, "His parents are engineers, of course they are going to have a genius kid."

"Actually, there is no correlation between genetic inheritance and intelligence," Archie noted.

"Yeah, what he said," Theo replied, "Well, we have a dark wizard to catch Kevin, see you next week?"

"Of course!" Kevin said, "Stop by anytime."

The teens thanked Kevin for his generosity and headed out into Witchaven with their troves of sweets.

Chapter 11

What do you feel?

Timothee looked up towards the blue sky above as he closed his eyes and listened to the wind rustling through the white birch trees that surrounded him.

"Focus Timothee," Theo's voice instructed, "All you need to do is focus."

Timothee opened his eyes and concentrated on a smooth round gray rock about the size of a Bludger that rested on the smooth cut face of an elm tree stump, "It's hard to do it without a wand."

"I know," Theo said, "But we can't use wands so this is the next best thing."

Holding up his hand towards the rock and closing his eyes, Timothee whispered, "Wingardium leviosa."

Opening his eyes, Timothee let out a defeated sigh as he saw that the rock had not budged, "This is impossible!"

"Not impossible," Archie said as he turned the page of his potions book, "Difficult yes. Impossible no."

"Impossible," Timothee replied insistently.

"Watch me," Abigail said as she stood from the base of a tree and brushed herself off, "I don't know any fancy spells like you but it's exactly how Theo explained it. You have to feel it inside of you."

Pulling out a key from underneath her shirt, she gave it a small kiss before letting out a long exhale that blew the emerald streak of hair away from her face. She took a wide base stance and slightly bent her legs as if she were ready to pounce. Her breathing was slow at first but it grew faster and faster until her chest was visibly heaving up and down. Letting out an audible, "humpf!" Abigail's hand fired forward in a pitching motion, causing the rock to fly clear off of the stump.

"Feel it," She smiled. Walking over to the slate grey rock, she picked it up and placed it back onto the elm stump. She trotted back to the tree she had been sitting at and pulled out her Latin book and began to study again.

Timothee licked his lips before he made a swish of his hand and then a sharp flick, but to his disappointment, again, nothing happened.

"What was that?" Theo chuckled.

"What?" Timothee said defensively.

Theo imitated the movement Timothee made with his hand while letting out a hearty laugh, "You are trying to perform magic. Not conducting an orchestra!"

"You were never taught swish and flick?" Timothee asked. "You know, swish and flick… Wingardium Leviosa?"

Abigail raised her hand, "I wasn't."

"I guess it's just been a while," Theo confessed, "Look. You are still too mechanical with your casting. You don't have a wand anymore Timothee. This magic that we do isn't spell based, it's raw and uncut. Spells don't really work for us and sometimes we don't know what we are actually doing."

Archie looked up from his book, "What do you feel?"

"Feel?" Timothee said.

"Yes," Archie answered as he adjusted his glasses, "What do you feel inside? Are you angry, happy, sad? They say a Patronus charm requires the focus on a single happy moment. It's one of the oldest and purest forms of magic."

"You expect me to cast a Patronus?" Timothee said, "Those are hard enough with a wand, let alone without one."

"No," Archie replied, "You're not listening. I want you to feel something when you cast. It will help you. Happy, angry, sad, joyful, rage… if you are going to conjure magic that is within you, then you need to draw on the very emotions that fuel you as a wizard."

Theo placed a hand on Timothee's shoulder, "Look at this," As he pulled out a black ornate pen from his pocket, "It was my mother's. It's the only things I have of hers. Abigail over there has a key that was given to her by her grandmother. Do you have anything of importance to you? Something that can remind you of magic?"

Timothee reached into his black shirt and pulled out the two golden bands that dangled on a silver chain. Holding the rings in his palm, he remembered the picture of his parents holding him as an infant.

Letting out a long deep breathe he stared unblinking at the rock and cleared his mind of any spells or wand motions.

"A wand doesn't make you a wizard Timothee," Theo whispered, "Wizarding is in your blood."

Timothee tried to focus on his parents, how he felt when he looked at the picture.

"Mom. Dad," He whispered but he realized that he didn't have a single memory of them. Not even the sound of their voices. He didn't remember taking that picture he had looked at so longingly every night on his bed stand.

Tears started to roll down Timothee's cheek as he whispered, "I don't remember my parents."

"What?" Theo said, noticing the tears rolling down Timothee's face.

"I don't even remember my parents," He repeated louder as he wiped the tears from his cheeks.

Theo placed an arm around Timothee's shoulder, "I'm sorry."

Archie closed his book and walked over as Abigail followed suit. She placed a hand on his back, "It'll be okay."

"They died when I was a baby," Timothee sniffed. He hadn't cried over his parents since in years. It was strange that he felt such a strong wave of sadness that he did not expect. He tried to compose himself as he cleared his throat, "I bet you guys think I'm a big baby or something."

"No," Archie insisted.

"My mom left when I was seven," Theo explained, "I think I cried everyday for a year. My dad said that there is nothing wrong with missing someone you love."

"Yeah, and I cried when my grandma died two years ago," Abigail added, "We all do it. In fact it would be weird if you didn't cry at least sometimes."

"Merci," Timothee whispered.

"I think that is enough magic for today," Archie suggested.

The others nodded their head in agreement.

"See you at school tomorrow," Abigail said as she grabbed her things together.

They made their way out of the white birch forest and back onto the main road that bisected Witchaven. Abigail and Archie lived in the same direction while Theo and Timothee lived in the opposite side of town. They said their goodbyes one last time as the group split up towards their perspective homes.

"So how far out of town do you live?" Theo asked.

"It's a twenty minute walk down on Elizabeth Street," Timothee answered.

"I know that road. They paved it last year I think."

"That's the one."

The sun tilted in the sky towards the horizon as its' rays of light began to take on a slight orange hue. It was that time in the day where the sky couldn't make up its' mind if it wanted to be noon or evening.

The sidewalks were no longer packed with the groups of students as the two young wizards strolled through town. Theo pulled out a Tentacular Red Liquorish from his bag and offered one to Timothee who accepted.

"So what's your favorite class?" He asked.

Timothee chewed off a piece of the wiggling sweet as he thought aloud, "Well… I enjoyed physical education today. That was fun but if I were to pick a classroom class I would have to say Science. It reminds me of alchemy."

"Science is fun, especially when we get to perform experiments," Theo said, "Did you ever take transfiguration?"

"Ah Wi," Timothee reminisced, "I turned a frog into a quill once but when the teacher picked it up, it let out a loud croak!"

Theo laughed, "This one time I saw one of the older students try to disapparate to a class so he wouldn't be late but when he apparated, he was missing his hair! He was lucky he didn't get splinched. I heard that the teacher made him go the entire class bald as a baby to teach him a lesson."

Theo sighed, "You miss it?"

"Every day," Timothee answered.

Theo kicked a rock down the sidewalk, "You know what's crazy?"

"What?" Timothee asked as he ran his fingers through his blonde hair.

"How often do you think about magic?"

"Almost every waking second and sometimes in my dreams," Timothee confessed.

"Exactly! I do to. You mess up once, make one mistake, and it's all taken away from you… from us for that matter. We think about all that we had, all that we will never have and the thing that gets me mad the most is the Chief Warlock who did it. Who took it all away from you, form me. The Warlock who sentenced you probably doesn't even remember your name. I know the Warlock who sentenced me doesn't remember mine. Heck he couldn't even get my name right during my trial. He kept calling me Mr. Border instead of Bruder. To them we're just another wizard that they needed to get rid of, just another space on their schedule. How dare someone like that cast judgement on me. You're a victim of the same broken system Timothee.

He didn't know your family or your friends who would miss you or even your teachers who would say you were an alright kid. It… it just doesn't seem fair."

"What happened?" Timothee asked, taken aback by the sudden tirade.

"It was just after first year. The Continental Wizarding Fair was in town…"

_January 21__st__ 1973_

Organ music chimed through the warm summer air as wizards and witches strolled through the fairgrounds. The wafting smells of delectable treats and the loud calls of vendors ceaselessly beckoned for new patrons. Goblins stood on large tall boxes with long wooden sticks pointing to signs of different attractions. Large brightly colored tent entrances remained closed to hide the mysteries within.

"Come and see the dragon tamer!" One goblin shouted as his dark black eyes peered into the crowd, "Prepare to be amazed!"

Another goblin on the opposite side of the walkway shouted, "Bruno the amazing Wizard! His spells will shock you, will mystify you, they will leave you downright breathless and wanting more! Only one Knut!"

"What about Bruno the Amazing? That could be fun to see Slade?" Theo asked, walking side by side with a boy his age.

Slade's hands were tucked into the pockets of his jeans and he slouched while he walked. His skin was pale with bright red freckles and his hair was brown like a dark chocolate. He had a mundane expression on his face as his brown eyes scanned the attractions before him.

"Bruno the amazing?" Slade said, "More like Bozo the lame. I saw his show last year and it was nothing more than basic fire spells."

"Well the dragon tamer then?" Theo asked.

Slade shook his head, "No… They don't even use a full grown Dragon. It's a Common Welsh Green. They aren't even that vicious. He might as well be taming a Pygmy Puff."

Theo was excited by all the attractions and wanted to see every last one. With his mother gone and his father being a muggle, he had never been to the magical fair before. Slade on the other hand came from a magical family and had been going to the magical fair every year since he could remember.

"Well what do you want to see then?" Theo said.

"I don't know," Slade sighed, "What if we head over to the haunted house. The ghosts in there put on a pretty good show."

"Okay, where is that?"

"Other side of the fairgrounds. Next to the spiraling banshee ride."

"I saw that! It looks scary."

"I saw some wizard puke on it a few years back. Butter beer and hotdog all over the place. The goblin who ran the ride nearly turned the oaf into a ghoul."

"You want to ride it after?"

"I guess," Slade said.

"Hey, Malifore!" A voice called from the crowd.

Slade turned around as a group of three older wizards approached. His face lit up, "It's Victor and the gang!"

"Malifore, what brings you to this lame spot?" Victor asked. He was an upper classman that also went to Salem School of Witchcraft and Wizardy. Although Theo didn't know Victor personally, rumors around school were that Victor Volpone was bad news. Constantly serving detention or costing his house points, it didn't take long for first years to learn who he was, especially when he had an incessant compulsion for cursing them. Slade started hanging out with Victor in the final months of school and it wasn't long before Theo saw his friend change.

Slade cracked a half smile, "Theo has never been to the fair, I figured I would show him around. I was hoping there would be some new attractions but it seems like the same old boring stuff from last year."

Victor looked Theo over once, "Theo right?"

"Yes," Theo answered.

"Half blood right?" Victor asked.

"Mom a witch and Dad a muggle."

"Hmm," Victor hummed, as he stared. His eyes had a calm fury to them as if he could lash out at any moment. Finally a snide smirk cracked before he said, "Half is better than none I guess. What are you two up to?"

"We were thinking of seeing the haunted house," Slade said.

"The Haunted house? It's not even scary," Victor sneered, "We just came from the Bruno show. Hawke hit the old quack with a leg locker curse and nearly caught the whole tent on fire. You should have seen it. We ended up getting kicked out of the stupid show."

A tall boy behind Victor laughed as he high-fived a blonde witch wearing a black dress and chocker.

"We were thinking of going to the sphinx next. You interested Malifore?" Victor asked.

"Sure," Slade replied, before turning to Theo, "You want to go?"

Theo felt uneasy at the thought of hanging around Victor Volpone. He knew it was trouble but he had gone to the fair with Slade and knew no one else. He looked to Victor whose fierce gaze sent chills down his spine. Theo nodded his head ever so slightly.

"Good. Let's go see this mongrel beast," Victor said before leading the way through the fairgrounds.

It didn't take long for Victor and his gang to start trouble. They cursed those around them when no one was looking. Evelyn, the witch in Victor's crew, managed to steal a bag of coins from a wizard who was waiting in line for a Butter beer.

"He's going to have a hard time getting something to drink," She crowed as she tossed the bag up and down in her hands. The others cackled except for Theo who looked on nervously to Slade. Slade in return shrugged his shoulders as if to wave off the theft.

The high pitched goblin's voice was faint at first but grew louder and louder as the slogans, "She can read your future!" and "Meet the Psychic Sphinx of Giza!" were called into the summer night air.

"One Knut gets you in!" The goblin standing before the large tan pyramid tent offered. He was wearing a white robe with a gold and blue Egyptian headdress. His ears were pierced with rings of gold and his two rows of pointed gold teeth shimmered with the surrounding light.

"She reads futures goblin?" Victor asked.

"Why yes she does," The Goblin answered. His black beady eyes were enticed by the new group of wizards that had approached, "Although I must warn you that not everyone was meant to hear their future."

"Yeah, yeah," Victor dismissed. He turned to Evelyn who still clutched the bag of coins she had stolen, "Pay him," He demanded.

Evelyn shielded the bag of coins, "But these are mine and I paid for the last show!"

With blinding speed, Victor drew his wand and gave it a quick flick. The bag of coins came rocketing out of Evelyn's hand and flew into Victor's with a loud "cling!"

"Hey!" Evelyn protested but she quickly fell silent when Victor gave her an infuriated look.

"Three Knuts," Victor said as he dropped them into the goblins open palm. He turned back towards Theo and Slade as he tucked the coin bag into his robes, "I assume you two can pay your own way."

Victor, Evelyn and Hawke, disappeared into the pyramid tent while Theo and Slade stood outside. Slade reached into his pocket but Theo grabbed his arm.

"I don't want to go in," Theo pleaded.

"What? Why not?" Slade said.

"Those guys are bad news. Nothing good can come from hanging out with them."

Slade rolled his eyes, "Come on Theo, they're upper classman, that's what they do. Sling magic and get into a little mischief."

"You call stealing a little mischief?" Theo protested. He looked to the goblin that was staring at them, and lowered his voice, "I want to go."

"Look, we will only hangout with them for a little bit and then we can go off on our own. I just want to hang out with them for a little longer."

Theo sighed, unsure of what to do. His gut told him to leave but he didn't want to go off on his own, by himself.

"After this we split ways?" Theo said, extending his hand.

Slade gave the hand a solid shake, "Promise."

They paid the goblin one Knut each and made their way through the stone painted tent flap. Inside they found themselves in a long stone corridor lit by torch light. Egyptian hieroglyphs were inscribed on the massive stone walls on either side of the walkway with depictions of pharaohs, sphinxes, crocodiles and all that ancient Egypt had to offer. Tall statues of half human half animal hybrids looked down on Theo as his eyes drank up the sights.

Theo walked over to a two dimensional painting of a pharaoh holding a crook and flail. He was wearing a white garment around his waist and on his head he wore a cobalt and gold headdress with a cobra prominently displayed on the forefront. Below the pharaoh were servants holding up offerings of rings of gold, reeds of papyrus and an ingot of metal. Underneath the depiction was a hovering display placard that read, "The crook in this painting of Tutankhamun is actually a wizarding staff, as it is a lesser known fact that ancient Egypt was home to the earliest and most powerful witches and wizards that the world has ever seen."

Slade pointed ahead to a light in the distance, "Hey I think they went this way!"

At the end of the corridor, Theo and Slade entered a large open chamber with sloped triangular walls. The inside was truly gigantic, as if they were in a real hollowed out pyramid. The grand atrium was cool inside, much cooler than the summer climate they had strolled through. A single white beam of light shown down from the apex of the pyramid and onto a square steel cage where a Sphinx rested.

Victor and his gang were standing behind a red velvet rope that was labeled with square signs that warned, "Danger, do not cross!"

"Come on! Do something!" Hawke's voice echoed through the pyramid.

"Stupid cat! Wake up!" Evelyn shouted.

"What's going on guys?" Slade asked, as he and Theo approached.

"The dumb thing won't wake up," Victor hissed, "It's like every other scam in this place. I bet it's not even real."

Theo stared admiringly at the sleeping sphinx. Her fur was a golden tan, like the Egyptian pyramids and it sheathed mounds of powerful muscle. It was much larger than he expected, with the body of a Lioness and the head of a woman. From his estimates it looked to be eight feet long from the tip of her tail to the tip of her nose. She had paws that were the size of dinner plates and a mane of thick combed black hair that surrounded her face. A single black braid with aqua and gold beads ran down the right side of her face. She was simply beautiful with a sort of powerful elegance even while she rested.

Victor pulled out his cypress wand and pointed it at the tail of the sleeping sphinx. He fired a small crackling ball of sparks that hit the sphinx in the tail.

"Don't" Theo said, pushing Victor's wand away, "You'll hurt it."

Victor looked at Theo with disgust, "How dare you touch me mudblood!"

Theo pulled his hand away and took a step back as Victor turned to him and pointed his wand.

"How about I hurt you?" Victor sneered.

Hawke cackled, and Evelyn goaded, "Do it!"

"Hey come on," Slade said, "He doesn't know any better."

"I have a mind to give you some pain as well Malifore, help you learn your place!" Victor snapped. His eyes were wide and his hand gripped his wand so hard it trembled.

"Guestsssss" A woman's voice whispered as soft as silk.

All five of the wizards turned to see the Sphinx standing in the cage looking at them. Her eyes were a golden yellow and glowed.

"What brings you too my presence?" The sphinx asked. Her words felt like a mother's lullaby.

"We…" Theo said but his train of thought was lost in the glow of her eyes.

"We want our future!" Victor demanded, "We paid your pointy eared master a stinking Knut to get it from you."

The fire in the sphinx's eyes grew brighter as she looked at Victor, "Master of me there is none. A goblin's trickery has landed me here."

"Future. Now cat!" Victor prodded, "We don't have all day."

Evelyn let out a small laugh that died as the Sphinx locked eyes with her.

"Cat you say, but cat is not my name. I am Osirah and you are?" The sphinx asked.

"Victor, Victor Volpone," He said, sticking out his chest.

"Solve my riddle child and I will fill your ears with the riches that await you."

"Riddle?" Hawkes said.

"This is bogus, let's get out of here!" Victor said, turning away.

"Victor Valpone, son of Vladimir and Alessandra Valpone. Brother to Victoria and friend to Rhys Hawkes, Evelyn Pridemoore and Slade Malifore."

Victor stopped in his tracks.

Hawkes voice called out amazed, "Victor, you hear that?"

"Cheap trick but you got me interested," Victor said turning around, "Let's hear the riddle."

Osirah licked her lips with a broad cat like tongue and smiled briefly, allowing Theo to get a glimpse of two large white fangs in her mouth. The sun fire in her eyes danced like a candle flame as she said,

"I am dark in the day and bright in the night,

I swim amongst the stars.

My Lover in the sky,

Is much brighter than I,

I chase him far and far.

But when we meet,

A shadow at our feet,

Goes across the land.

Don't stare too long,

Or your sight will be gone,

And you'll miss our hand in hand."

Victor mouthed the words to himself as he thought about the riddle. He shook his head, "What? That doesn't even make any sense!"

"It's a riddle Valpone," Evelyn said, "It's like a puzzle or something."

Theo, thought about the riddle silently, "I am dark in the day and bright at night, I swim amongst the stars… Well that could be the moon? Or maybe it is a planet? My lover in the sky is much brighter than I. Hmmm. The sun?"

"A firefly!" Hawkes shouted.

"Firefly?" Victor asked, "How did you get that?"

Hawkes hunched his shoulders, "I don't know, they are bright at night?"

"Okay, A firefly!" Victor answered but the sphinx shook her head no. Victor turned to Hawkes, "That's not it you ghoul brain!"

"A moth?" Evelyn said.

Theo looked to Slade who was also thinking through the riddle.

"What was the second part again?" Theo wondered, "A shadow, and the land… don't stare too long. What is that? Wait. There was something about meeting. When the sun and the moon meet, that's an eclipse!"

"An eclipse?" Theo said barely above a whisper.

"What?" Victor snapped.

"I think it's an eclipse," Theo hesitantly repeated.

"Eclipse," Victor shouted to the sphinx.

The ears of the sphinx perked up as a single brow rose in interest, "What is that?"

The agitation grew as Victor said, "Can't you hear me? Eclipse!"

"One more time?" Osirah grinned, her white ivory fangs just visible below her upper lip. Her eyes grew large and her nose flared. Her powerful muscles tensed.

Victor took a step towards the red rope and cupped his hands to his mouth, "An Eclipse you big dumb cat!"

"Thrice," The sphinx whispered, her ears pinned back and teeth bared.

The grey metal cage let out a chilling sharp click. Theo's blood ran cold as ice while the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. His legs locked and he felt as if he couldn't breathe.

The bars of the metal cage lifted up, leaving nothing but the red velvet rope and an ominous warning between the wizards and the sphinx.

Victor's eyes widened in terror as he swallowed hard and took a step back, "I… umm… I"

"Shhhh child," Osirah assuaged. Even now her voice was as soft as a unicorn mane but her body reminded Theo of the calm before the storm.

Victor took another step back, "We have to go."

Osirah took a step closer with her enormous paw, "But Victor, you've not received your prophecy."

"I don't want it," Victor replied, reaching for his wand.

"I'm afraid it's not good. In fact, it is rather short."

Theo saw a tan blur lunge out of the cage towards them. Screams echoed off the great walls of the pyramid as streaks of crimson gushed into the air. Theo closed his eyes and placed his hands over his ears. He was too petrified to move. He felt something warm and wet run down his legs as they trembled uncontrollably. Even with his hands over his ears, he could hear the muffled screams, screams that called out over and over and over again. Something hot and wet sprayed across his face and he tried to shut his eyes as tight as he could. He tried to be somewhere else in his mind before the end came.

When the screaming had ceased, he felt warm breath against his hand. A breath that smelled of a butcher's shop, of butchered meat. A smell he could never forget.

Theo lowered his quivering hand from his ears, "Please don't hurt me."

It was that same soothing voice as before,

"Two brothers not bound by blood,

One is evil, One is good…"

_The Present_

"What happened next?" Timothee asked.

Theo took his turn kicking a stone farther down the sidewalk, "When I opened my eyes, she was gone. Of course it wasn't long before I was standing before a Warlock in the High Wizarding Court."

"But there is no way they could have blamed you for all that. How could you have known that eclipse was the key to the cage?"

"It didn't matter Timothee. Here you have one wizard standing while all of those around him are dead. How can I explain that without looking guilty? No one came to my rescue during my trial to plead my case. They all assumed it was my fault and that made me guilty. My mother was gone and I only had my father at my side. He didn't know how the Wizarding courts worked, they just told me I was lucky not to be in Azkaban."

"That's not fair," Timothee protested.

Theo stopped and faced Timothee, "I imagine your trial went the same way. Guys like us we have to stick together."

He extended his hand, "Promise?"

Timothee took the hand and gave it a firm shake, "Promise."

They walked farther down the road until they came to the corner of Main Street and Elizabeth Street. Theo continued down Main Street while Timothee walked south down Elizabeth. On their walk they found that they lived relatively close to each other and planned to hang out over the weekend. It wasn't long before Timothee reached the two story hunter green house with brown roofing. Samuel's Teal Mercury was parked in the driveway and the living room lights were on.

"How did it go today?" Samuel asked, as the door opened to the house and Timothee walked in. The savory aromas of roasted beef and potatoes greeted him at the door.

"It was… good," Timothee realized.

"That's wonderful," Mara said as she exited the kitchen, wiping her hands with a towel. She was wearing a blue apron over her white pastry chef top with the pink words "M's Bakery" embroidered over the heart.

Samuel folded his newspaper and stood from his chair. He was still in his teaching robes from work, "Did you talk to Jena again?"

"I actually didn't get a chance to. I kind of made some friends today," Timothee said.

"Kind of?" Mara asked.

"I did," Timothee clarified.

"Who are these new friends?" Samuel asked.

"Theo, Archie and Abigail. They are in some of my classes."

Mara's face lit up as she walked over and gave Timothee a hug, "That's wonderful Timothee! I always knew you would fit right in, you are such a good kid." Taking a step back she looked to Samuel, "I told you honey."

"You're right," He admitted and proceeded to stare inquisitively.

Mara was smiling from ear to ear, "Okay, how about you drop your bag off in your room, wash up and come on down for dinner?"

Timothee nodded and trotted up the stairs towards his room. Opening the door, he un-slung his bag and placed it on his bed. A small tattered grey bear emerged from the pile of pillows and walked to the edge of the bed.

"Hi Ursa," Timothee greeted.

Ursa waved his plush paw in the air.

"I think I made some friends today."

The black yarn that ran in a line under Ursa's snout began to curl up into a smile.

Timothee walked over and took a seat on his bed, next to the bear, "Can I tell you a secret?"

Ursa nodded.

"You sure?"

Ursa made an "X" over the grey fur on his chest to symbolize his pledge.

"The friends I made today are just like me. They are wizards!"

The smile on Ursa's face lowered slightly as he tilted his head to one side. An inquiring expression seemed to silently ask, "But how?"

"They all seem to have just fallen through the cracks I guess. They're not bad if that's what you are worried about. Life just kind of… I don't know. All I know is that for the first time since I've been here I finally have people I can talk to. Kids who can relate to me and like the things I like."

Ursa nodded his head in understanding.

Timothee placed a hand on Ursa's shoulder and let out a long sigh, "You know I think I can get used to this muggle life after all."

He looked around his room until his eyes fell upon the picture on his nightstand. Two parents gleefully holding their infant. Timothee leaned over and picked up the picture and held it in his hands. For some reason he didn't feel the same longing in his heart as he gazed upon the picture. There was a disconnect he now felt. As if the feelings he once had were counterfeit.

"You know I don't even remember them taking this picture?"

Ursa pointed to the picture before pointing to his head.

"You remember?"

Ursa nodded. He pointed at Timothee before rocking his arms as if to carry an infant.

"I know that is me in the picture but today I realized that I don't remember them. Not the sound of their voice or their scent, not the warmth of their touch. Without any of that how do I know they were real?"

Ursa pointed to his heart.

Timothee shrugged his shoulders, "I guess. I'm just tired of learning about my parents through the memories of others. I wish I had my own memories of them."

Ursa Nodded.

Mara's voice called from down the stairs, "Timothee, dinner is ready!"

Timothee looked at the picture one last time before shaking his head and placing it face down on his nightstand. Standing from the bed, he gave Ursa a pat on the head and left his room.


	4. Partee Child Part 4

Chapter 12

Ghost Town

It was October and the trees outside the window of the second floor classroom started to turn yellow, orange and red. Fall was on its way.

Groups of students wearing safety goggles sat around black high top tables where beakers filled with water bubbled on hot plates.

"The silver penny is actually created by a process known as galvanization," Mr. Burnside explained from the head of the class. He wore a white lab coat over his blue shirt and a black astronomical tie. The safety glasses he wore magnified his eyes and he had two thick white tufts of hair on either side of his head that projected straight out.

Mr. Burnside was notorious for his boisterous voice that could be heard all the way down the hall even with his classroom door closed. He was a favorite among students for his enthusiasm and passion for science.

Reaching into the bubbling beaker in front of him, Mr. Burnside's tongs emerged with a silver penny that he held up for all to see, "Eureka! A silver penny. We are actually coating the copper of the penny with zinc by forming sodium zincate. This gives us the silver appearance."

Timothee sat with Theo, Abigail and Archie in the corner of the classroom working on the silver penny experiment. Archie was stirring a beaker of bubbling water when he asked, "Can you hand me the zinc sulfate Abigail?"

Abigail closed her Latin book and lifted up a glass beaker filled with metallic strips, "This?"

"No," Archie answered, "That is the solid zinc. We will need that next. Right now I need the white powdery stuff."

"Oh," Abigail responded, and handed Archie the circular container with the powder inside. She went back to her Latin book and flipped it open, "I need to study. Rumor is that Mrs. Dell gave her first period class a pop quiz."

Timothee in the mean time concentrated on a pencil lying on the black lab table and whispered, "bouger" as the pencil remained still.

"No luck?" Theo said.

Timothee shrugged his shoulders, "Nothing. It's been one whole month and I can't even make a simple pencil do what I want. Give me a wand and I can turn that pencil into a whistling watch. Take away my wand and I'm pretty much a muggle. No offense."

"None taken," Archie said as he lowered his glasses to get a better look at the dissolving powder, "But didn't you set your French book on fire last week?"

"Yes, but I was trying to move Ursa."

"What's an Ursa?" Theo asked.

Timothee's face flushed, "It's…"

"A bear," Abigail said.

"How do you know?" Timothee asked.

"Ursa is the latin word for bear" Abigail replied.

"Oh," Timothee said.

Archie looked over from his swirling beaker, "It's also a constellation."

"That's all fine and well. But what is your 'Ursa' Timothee?" Theo said.

"It's a stuffed bear I have. I kind of grew up with him. He's one of those magic bears that can walk and talk although he can't talk anymore."

Abigail looked up from her Latin book in surprise, "Yours still works?"

"You know about them?" Timothee answered.

"My sister got one for me when I was little but the charm on it wore off after a few years. Now it's just an ordinary stuffed bear."

Timothee hunched his shoulders, "I don't know how Ursa does it but he just keeps on going. He's been with me since I could remember but that still doesn't help the fact that I can't do magic like you guys."

"You might not be performing the magic that you want, but magic is still happening," Archie explained while sprinkling the strips of zinc into the bubbling solution. Next he reached for the penny and dropped it into the beaker.

"I guess," Timothee said. He looked down at his worksheet and read the first question, "What is the process of applying a protective zinc coating to prevent rusting called?"

"Galvanization," Archie answered, "The professor just said that one. What's the next question?"

Timothee looked down at the worksheet, "Explain the process in which the copper penny is coated with zinc."

"Hmm… some kind of electron charge?" Archie guessed.

"Let me see," Theo said, grabbing the worksheet. He pulled out his black ornate pen and dabbed the tip on his tongue. Looking around the room, he scanned for something until his face lit up, "The dissolving zinc is interacting with the copper through electron transference causing the copper molecules to be charged. Those copper molecules are then bonding with the zinc molecules causing the silver colored coating."

"Wow!" Timothee said, "I didn't know you were good at science?"

"Cheater," Archie said bitterly under his breath.

"Why do you say that?" Timothee asked.

"Theo is not actually that smart," Archie said.

"Hey!" Theo protested, "I did better than you on our last quiz."

"Well, what happened the day you forgot your pen?" Archie asked accusingly.

Theo opened his mouth but then shut it as Mr. Burnside, who was wondering around the classroom, was headed in their direction. He looked at their bubbling beaker and watched as the edges of the penny started to turn silver, "Very good work Archimedes. Did you know that Archimedes of Syracuse was also an alchemist?"

"I do, in fact that is who I am named after," Archie said.

"A great name indeed. I see you have question two already done, well ahead of the class. What if I were to ask you what would happen if we were to oxidize these pennies with water?"

"It would turn blue or green," Archie said.

Mr. Burnside grinned, "Excellent. And do you know what they call that layer of color?"

"Um…" Archie thought.

Timothee watched as Theo dabbed the tip of his pen on his tongue.

"Patina?" Theo said.

Mr. Burnside stood straight up with his white tufts of hair swaying back, "Wow, I thought I could stump you two. You two make a great team. If you want a great example of a Patina, just look at our Statue of Liberty. It was not always that greenish color but was originally the same color as our pennies." He looked over at Timothee, "A gift from the French I might add."

"Wi," Timothee replied.

"Oh look," Mr. Burnside said, "It looks like your penny is good and silver."

They looked down at the silver coin sitting in the bubbling white beaker. Grabbing a pair of tongs, Mr. Burnside pulled out the penny and held it up for them to see, "Now, for the real alchemy, turning silver into gold."

Mr. Burnside touched the edge of the beaker to make sure it wasn't too hot before he removed it from the hotplate. Taking the penny, he dropped it onto the center of the hotplate, "Just watch."

Abigail, who had hidden her Latin book, leaned forward to see, while Timothee slid over to make more space.

Slowly but surely the silver plating on the penny began to turn a bright gold.

"Voila!" Mr. Burnside shouted, causing some of the other students to turn, "Now this isn't real gold, it is an alloy. Do you know what this is? Perhaps for a bonus point on your next quiz?"

"Bronze?" Archie said.

The smile on Mr. Burnside's face grew from ear to ear, "My oh my, your parents must be very proud of you! Where did you come up with that answer?"

"Recently I was reading a history book and they were talking about the Bronze Age, although that was a mix between copper and tin."

"Is it brass?" Abigail said.

"Bingo!" Mr. Burnside answered, "One extra point will be added to each one of your grades."

Theo, Archie, Timothee and Abigail each exchanged a smile.

Mr. Burnside leaned in, "Don't tell the others. Let's give them a shot to earn an extra point as well. Okay?"

The group of teens nodded before Mr. Burnside wondered off towards another group.

"Okay, you did it again," Timothee said, "What is with the pen?"

Theo held up the pen and spun it in his hands before saying, "This old thing?"

"Is it a cheating quill?" Timothee asked.

"No," Theo said innocently.

"It might as well be," Archie grumbled begrudgingly before taking the penny off the hotplate and examining it.

"It's the ink," Abigail said, "It's mixed with Felix Felicis."

"Liquid Luck?" Timothee said.

"Exactly," Archie answered, "It's just enough for him to get an answer or two right on his quizzes but give him a paper or an essay and he's going to need to suck on that thing like a baby bottle."

"You're just jealous," Theo said to Archie.

"Of you? Never," Archie fired back.

"Hey guys, take it easy!" Abigail interjected. "Look, who cares if he uses a magic pen? It helped us get some bonus points right? We are all on the same team."

Archie and Theo refused to look at each other before Archie mumbled, "I guess you're right."

Theo looked over and extended a hand to which Archie accepted.

"Good," Abigail said, "Now that that's over, on to more important stuff like Sleepy Hollow. Theo, you told your Dad that you were sleeping over at Timothee's right?"

Theo nodded, "We are all good."

Abigail turned, "Archie, you told your parents you are staying with Timothee?"

"All set," Archie said.

"I told my parents, I am staying at Kate's. And Timothee, your parents are cool with us staying at your place?"

Timothee shook his head, "They were actually pretty excited that I was having friends over."

The bell rang over the loud speaker and all the students began to put their books into their bags while Mr. Burnside tried to shout last minute instructions.

Abigail shoved her Latin book into her book bag, "Excellent. I talked to Kevin yesterday and everything is set up. Sleepy Hollow here we come! Oh how I can already taste the butter beer!"

Theo raised his hands in a ghoulish motion, "The Ghost city. Oooooo!"

Timothee felt as if his stomach was about to do flips. He was excited by the prospect of being around magic again, "Maybe I can buy a wand there if no one is looking."

He walked out the door and headed down the hall towards his French class when he felt a slight tap on his shoulder. Behind him was Jena Barnwell with a nervous smile on her face. Her brown hair was curled instead of straight and she was wearing a lavender colored dress.

"Hi," She said rather quickly.

"Bonjour," Timothee replied.

Jena giggled, "I haven't talked to you in some time."

"Sorry. I've been busy," he answered, "How are things with you?"

"Good. I've been busy as well planning our Homecoming dance tonight. It should be pretty big this year."

"Homecoming?" Timothee asked. He had seen fliers all over the school promoting the event.

"Homecoming is a tradition here in America. It usually surrounds the Alumni weekend. That's when all the people who used to go to Witchaven High come back. Traditionally we hold a parade and a dance."

"Is that like a ball?" Timothee asked.

"Exactly!" Jenna said, "But less fancy… so I was wondering…" Jena bit her lower lip and looked nervously at her fingers which meddled with a piece of folded up paper.

"What?" Timothee asked.

"If you would go with me?" She replied.

"Um," Timothee said. He fumbled over his words, "I didn't. Um. I didn't actually plan on going."

Jena's shoulders drooped, "I see."

"I mean, I would like to go with you but I already made plans for tonight. I didn't realize that there was a ball. A dance! I mean," Timothee blurted out.

"It's okay," Jena replied. Her face turned red as she quickened her pace and disappeared into the sea of students.

"Well that was unexpected," Timothee thought.

The rest of the day seemed to drag on as Timothee checked the clock every five minutes. It was even worst when Jena refused to even look in his direction in their French class. He just wanted the day to be over so he could meet up with his friends and head out to Sleepy Hollow.

After a grueling wait, the school day was finally over and Timothee grabbed his things and set out for the tall cherub statue in front of Town Hall. The air was cooler now that fall had begun to set in and the breeze that ran through the town sent leaves dancing about the streets and sidewalks.

"The day would not end!" Timothee said as he approached the statue, he walked under a banner that said "Welcome Back!"

Timothee let out a long yawn as he approached his friends.

"Cursed! Cursed!" Theo yelled jokingly as he pointed accusingly at Timothee.

Abigail crossed her pointer fingers and looked away, "Don't touch him!"

Timothee watched as the yawn spread across the herd of walking students. It traveled at a blinding rate from a nearby boy in blue to his two friends standing in front of him. A girl walking passed the group of boys yawned and her younger sister holding her hand did the same. A police officer helping direct the school buses had to stop and hold his hand over his mouth. From there it jumped to a bus driver. One yawn turned into three which turned into nine, which turned into twenty-seven and so on.

Archie tossed Timothee a vial of Wizergen, "Take this."

Timothee popped the top off the vial and threw back the blue and silver swirling liquid. He had grown accustom to the taste and liked the warm sensation it made going down. Instantly he felt the boost of energy hit his system.

Abigail turned and pointed towards Precious Boutique, "Kevin is waiting for us."

"You're right. Let's go," Archie said and set out.

"So, Archie, any luck with the water?" Theo asked.

"It's been getting fainter and fainter for the past month," Archie admitted, "It's almost like there is no magic in the water at all. The strange thing is that there is a level of static that remains."

"What do you mean?" Theo said.

"It's like background noise or magic that is interfering even without the water. I guess I never noticed it before." Archie said.

"Strange," Abigail shrugged.

"You're telling me," Archie replied.

They walked down the street until they arrived at the Precious Boutique. Timothee could barely contain himself, the day was finally here.

"Welcome!" Kevin greeted, "You ready?"

"Boy, am I ever!" Theo said.

"Is he here?" Abigail asked.

"He should be here any minute," Kevin assured pulling back the sleeve to his shirt and checking his wrist watch.

Just at that moment there was a loud crack as a wizard apparated into the center of the store. Timothee felt a subtle pressure wave blow past him as the wizard settled himself before them. He wore a black trench coat with long brown hair that was tied back. Streaks of grey peppered his hair and a 5 o'clock shadow hugged his face. His eyes were brown and there was a subtle smoky smell to him like sulfur and charcoal.

The wizard reached over and up-righted a Matryoshka doll that had been knocked over by his arrival, "Sorry about that gents. I didn't know I would be landing in a fine china shop."

Timothee recognized the British pronunciation almost instantly.

The wizard looked at the others and waved, "The name is Daniel Spoon. You lot are a lot younger than my normal clients and you don't breathe fire."

"Who are your normal clients?" Archie asked.

Daniel shrugged, "Well. I typically haul around dragons. So in reality you are nothing like my normal clients at all."

"You're a dragon smuggler?" Theo said.

"Something like that," Daniel said.

"But isn't that illegal?" Timothee noted.

"So is hauling a few underage wizards off to Sleepy Hollow but I don't hear you complaining about that," Daniel replied, "What's with the interrogation? Are we going to do this or not?"

"Yes, of course," Abigail blurted.

Daniel extended his palm up, "Okay, well let's take care of business then."

"Yup, I got it," Kevin said reaching under the counter and pulling out a small leather bag. He tossed it to Daniel who snatched it out of the air. The bag made a clinking sound as he caught it. Daniel opened the pouch to confirm the contents before closing it and saying, "Looks good to me, everybody huddle around, you wouldn't want to get splinched now would you?"

Archie let out a small gasp.

Daniel grinned, "Aw don't worry, I haven't splinched someone in ages."

"Have fun," Kevin waved before there was a loud crack and a shudder.

Timothee felt his body twist, flip and spin as though he was being pulled through a key hole and exploded out whole on the other side. His feet hit solid ground and he swayed to gain his balacnce.

"I think I am going to be sick," Archie gurgled as his face turned green.

"Ay, just breathe," Daniel assuaged, "The feeling should pass."

Timothee looked around the room they had arrived in. It was filled with various glass displays, pictures and old 17th century objects. A large white banner with black lettering read, "Welcome to the Sleepy Hollow Museum."

"This isn't Sleepy Hollow," Archie said.

"You can't actually apparate directly into Sleepy Hollow," Daniel confessed.

Abigail turned, "Then how are we supposed to get there?"

"Turn around," Daniel ordered and pointed to a large painting of a 17th century town. The painting was enormous, at seven feet tall and ten feet wide, it took up most of the wall it was mounted on.

Daniel reached into the inner jacket pocket of his trench coat and pulled out a tarnished silver spoon. Holding the spoon, he tapped the painting three times.

"That's it?" Abigail asked.

"That's it." Daniel affirmed.

"What do we do now?" Theo asked.

"Just… step." Daniel said pointing at the painting.

"Step where?" Abigail said.

Daniel turned back towards the painting and rolled his eyes and muttered "teenagers." Lifting his left leg over the base of the frame, he took a step into the painting and vanished. The painting didn't change or quiver, it didn't do anything. Daniel simply disappeared.

Archie's eyes grew as he turned to the others, "Did you just see that?"

Theo let out a deep breath and took a step towards the painting, "Here we go."

The others stood behind him and watched as he lifted his leg slowly and stepped right into the mural.

Abigail let out a small chuckle and leapt into the painting behind Theo. Timothee turned towards Archie who had an anxious look on his face.

"After you," Archie said nervously.

"Timothee walked to the painting and put his hand through it. He felt a cool breeze run through his fingers on the other side. Closing his eyes, he hopped into the painting.

Timothee felt his right foot catch on the frame, turning his momentum against him as he launched forward in a dive. Opening his eyes, he watched as muddy ground rushed towards him. He felt his cheek hit, creating a loud "splat!" His sense of smell was overwhelmed with a rich earthy aroma.

Timothee heard Theo and Abigail's wild laughter at his expense. Abigail held her stomach while Theo wiped the tears away from his face.

"What happened?" Daniel asked, walking over and helping Timothee to his feet.

"I don't know," Timothee answered as he wiped off globs of mud from his yellow striped shirt which was now brown.

"We made it!" Archie shouted as he appeared in the middle of the road, "What's so funny?"

Theo and Abigail pointed to the mud covered Timothee.

"What happened to you?" Archie asked.

"I… I fell," Timothee admitted.

"Well this won't do," Daniel said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his tarnished silver spoon, and gave it a small wave.

Timothee felt his clothes begin to dry as the brown mud stains dried into dust and crumbled off of his shirt and pants. Within a few seconds, Timothee was dusting himself off, "Merci."

Archie looked to Theo whose eyes also widened.

"Mr. Spoons, sir." Archie said.

"Call me Daniel. No need for formalities here."

"Mr. Daniel," Archie said, "What is that spoon?"

Daniel held the spoon up, "It's my wand."

"Wand, but I thought wands had to be made of wood?" Archie said.

"With a core," Theo added.

Daniel grinned, "Wands can be made from anything mate. You don't even need a wand to make magic happen. In fact, when I was a boy, we were too poor for wands. We made our wands out of things that were valuable to us. My brother and I used these spoons. A few other rascals used toys, candlestick holders, anything really."

Timothee reached for the two rings that dangled on his necklace, "Do you have the same control as a wand?"

"At first we didn't," Daniel confessed, "But my brother Oliver figured that if wands used cores to control magic, why couldn't we do the same?"

"And it worked?" Archie asked.

Daniel pointed to a small black string tied to the neck of his spoon, "Werewolf whisker this is. Got you lot here alright."

Timothee saw the wheels turning in Archie's head.

Daniel tucked his spoon away and clapped his hands together, "Alright, that's enough of that. I have to pick up some odds and sods so let's meet back here in an hour's time. If you find yourselves in barney, you can find your own way back. Fair enough?"

"Where is barney?" Abigail asked.

"It's trouble," Daniel clarified, "Last thing I need is a couple Aurors running up my behind. If they show, I go. Simple as that."

"Got it," Abigail said and the others nodded.

"Then have at it. Welcome to Sleepy Hollow," Daniel said with an outstretched arm as he moved out of the way.

The ghost town of Sleepy Hollow was a rundown assemblage of 17th century colonial style buildings. Ghosts, wizards, witches and creatures all strolled about in the muddy streets as a low hanging fog trawled through the streets making visibility limited. It was bleak and dreary and yet Timothee still felt strangely at home. The sky was overcast with a hue of green and it was hard to tell what time of day it was. There was a slight sulfur smell to the air that reminded him of a bog or a swamp. A ghost horse pulled a carriage through the mud without making a sound.

A tightly organized group of ghosts dressed in American Revolutionary military garb trotted about in a square formation. Their tricorne hats bobbing up and down with the cadence of their step as long tall ethereal muskets pointed high over their see through heads.

The ghost of a woman in large flowing white and grey dress floated about, singing dreary operatic tunes as she fanned herself ever so gently.

Ghosts and wizards, Wizards and ghost, they were all intermingled going about their business.

"It looks bleak," Abigail grimaced.

"It's a ghost town," Archie said, "It's supposed to be bleak. Most of the people here are dead."

Archie made his way towards the front of the group and turned around, "Okay, so here's the plan. We have…" He checked his watch, "Fifteen minutes until Bartholomew Henry Periwinkle shows up at the Crane's Bookstore over there. Until then, we can explore what we want. I know I wanted to head to the Baltus' Bubbling Cauldron for some ingredients, I know Abigail wanted to check out Katrina's Candies. Timothee, Theo, what do you guys want to do?"

Timothee looked at Theo who hunched his shoulders, "I guess we can walk around until the book signing?"

Archie nodded, "Okay, just remember to be in that shop in fifteen?"

They scattered, heading off in different directions, Archie to his potions shop and Abigail to the candy shop. They had exchanged their saved allowances with Kevin for Galleons, Sickles and Knuts and they were prepared to spend every last one of them.

"Do we get a broom?" Theo laughed as he gave Timothee a playful punch in the arm.

"It would make getting to school a lot easier," Timothee chuckled.

Theo and Timothee walked by a small group of wizards and witches standing in front of a raised wooden gallows. It peaked their interest and they decided to join the crowd. Two torches burned black flames on either side of the stage and a weathered banner with holes and tears hung over the stage with the words, "186th Headless Hunt's Scavenger Hunt."

The murmurs of the crowd fell silent as a loud triumphant hunting horn trumpeted throughout the town. The ghostly head of a man, with a thick white beard and ever so fashionable top hat emerged from the floorboards of the gallows. It wasn't long before his body followed wearing a red riding jacket and trousers.

Clearing his throat, the ghost peered into the crowd. His nose pointed ever so slightly upwards as he spoke, "Livens and beloved members of the afterlife. I am Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore and welcome to the 186th Headless Hunt's Scavenger Hunt!"

Patrick Delaney-Podmore paused dramatically before lifting his head from his shoulders and holding it in a Shakespearean fashion:

"Once in the noon of a cold fall breeze,

Cannon flame and rifle scream.

A Revolution fought for a freedom dream.

A rider fell from atop his horse,

Lost his head and rest in peace,

Eternal sleep it would not be.

For haunt he doth and rode his horse,

The Sleepy Man showed no remorse.

Who was this man who lost his head?

"Soldier!" some would claim.

While others thought,

That Brom Van Bunt may have been to blame.

You see Ichabod Crane that Cheeky man,

From fancy town away.

Vied for Katrina's hand and lusted land,

Which Brom could not stand.

To he who lost his head one day,

A horseman it was meant to be,

His prized possession lost to him,

He haunted the town of Sleepy then.

For sixteen score and six more,

We come to find his head.

Lest we find it, then we end it,

And the Headless Hunt begins!"

There was a sudden tremble in the ground as the stampeding hooves of horses grew like an approaching storm. A pale blue and grey horde of ghostly headless horseman surged from behind the stage and plowed right through the crowd. The shock of the passing phantoms felt like a winter breeze and Timothee shivered. They thundered through the crowd performing various tricks on horseback. Some riders juggled heads while another ghost stood on his saddle doing back flips and handstands. One ghost reached down for Timothee, causing the young wizard to duck his pale grasp.

Theo laughed, "They can't grab you! They're ghosts!"

"Oh yeah," Timothee said nervously, "I forgot."

The ghosts howled as the crowd cheered and it wasn't long before the thundering show was down the street and over a bridge on the other side of town.

The crowd applauded and Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore tossed his head into the air and bowed his body. As his body straightened, his head landed conveniently onto his shoulders, "We will be accepting new applicants to the Headless Hunt on All Hollows' Eve!"

Pressing his hunting horn to his grey ghost lips, Sir Patrick trumpeted a regal tune before flying into the air, landing on an ethereal horse and galloping off in the direction of the other headless riders.

"Wow that was amazing!" Theo said as he grinned from ear to ear.

"I was not expecting to see the Headless Hunt!" Timothee replied.

They dispersed with the rest of the crowd and slogged their way through the muddy street.

Theo pulled back his sleeve and looked at his watch, "What next? We still have some time."

"Meet up with Abigail for some treats?" Timothee suggested.

Theo grinned and pointed towards a storefront a few buildings down, "I was thinking maybe we could have a little fun?"

Timothee followed Theo's finger and read the sign "Bonez's Wands" before looking back nervously, "But what about the trace? We could never buy one."

"I'm not looking to buy a wand. I just want to hold one again. Come on Timothee, it doesn't hurt to look. Pick one up, wave it around a little."

Theo folded his hands and held them up as if to beg.

"Oh how nice it would feel," Timothee thought to himself as his heart began to race, "Okay."

A small wind chime made of wish bones, finger bones and rib bones clacked as the door opened to the old dusty wand shop. The store was small, no larger than a bedroom with a shop counter to one side. Shelves bursting with small dusty boxes were piled all the way to the ceiling. A rusted brass bird cage was off to a corner with the skeleton of a parrot happily swaying and cooing on its' swinging perch. Candles flickered high on the walls in every direction and an orange light filled the dimly lit room.

Behind the counter was a large painted diagram of Wandlore. On the lower half was every type of wand wood from Willow, Holly, and Hawthorn to more exotic woods like Dracaena Draco and Dracaena Cinnabari. On the upper half of the painting were all the cores that one could imagine, from the popular materials to the ones out of style. Golden strings in the painting danced from different wand cores to the different wand woods. When the golden strings connected a pair, writing would appear explaining their relationships. It was mystifying to watch and Theo imagined he could stare at the painting for hours. A gold string from a phoenix feather connected with pine and lit up.

Theo coughed as he waved the dust from his face, "It looks like no one has been in here in centuries."

Timothee blinked and rubbed his eyes, "I thought you said this was a wand shop."

"It said," Theo started but was cut off by a nasally voice from behind the counter.

A Skeleton wearing a black pinstripe suit emerged and greeted Timothee and Theo, "Bonez's Wands! Best wands for the living, dead, near dead, almost dead and mostly dead. How may Bonez Femuring be of service to you young wizards?"

Timothee and Theo took a frightened leap back.

"But you're a," Theo said, his mouth a gape.

"Skeleton?" Bonez said.

The two teenage wizards nodded.

"That I am," Bonez noted as he held up a smooth butterscotch skeleton hand and examined it in the candle light, "But then again both of you have skeletons don't you?"

"Uh huh," They answered in unison.

Bonez's black pits for eyes examined them as his jaw bone clacked up and down, "So I guess that doesn't make us that much different now, does it?"

"Nuh uh," They replied.

"Good," Bonez said, slapping his carpals against the counter, making a loud clack. The skeleton parrot in the cage, let out a loud, "Haaawwww!"

Bonez skull turned towards the cage, "Shhh, Avila," before turning back to the boys, "Now that that is out of the way. What can I do for you?"

"Um," Timothee stuttered. Still mystified by the talking skeleton. He had seen many things in the magical world but this was a first for him.

"Wands," Theo finally said, taking a step forward, "You see my friend here crushed his at quidditch practice yesterday. Forgot he had it in his robes."

"Is that right?" Bonez said, looking over at Timothee, "Salem?"

"Pursang," Timothee said.

Bonez stood from his brown wooden counter, "Pursang? Why aren't you a far ways from home?"

Theo shot Timothee a glare as if to say, "What are you doing?"

Timothee exchanged a nervous glance. The panic clear as day.

Bonez tilted his head and the vertebrae in his neck cracked, "What brings you all the way to old Bonezy's place? They don't have wand shops in France?"

"He's an exchange student," Theo explained, "Studying abroad for a semester."

"Oh really?" Bonez said, "You know I fought side by side with Frenchmen during the Revolution. Any man of France is a friend of Bonez. What can I get you?"

Timothee's blank stare didn't budge as he thought to himself, "What if I get caught with a wand? What if the ministry finds out and sends me to Azkaban? What will I tell Samuel, Mara… my Grandmother! I can't do that to her again."

Theo looked back and forth between Timothee and Bonez, "I'm sorry, he doesn't speak much English."

"No problem," Bonez assured, "Quel genre de baguette voulez-vous? "

"Eleven inch ebony," Timothee replied before he could realize what he had done but he couldn't help himself. He felt a nervous knot in the pit of his stomach as he watched the well suited wand clerk walk from behind his desk to an opposite corner of the shop.

"Hmmm…" Bonez hummed as his skull moved from box to box, "Ebony… good for dueling, handy for transfiguration… Black as night and true to purpose... ah, here we go. I have a delightful ebony wand here, probably a thousand years old by my guess from the far off lands of Arabia."

Pulling the black box from the shelf, he blew the dust from the top before walking back behind his counter and setting it down.

Timothee and Theo walked forward to get a better look.

"Got this wand from a collector some ages ago during the Revolution. Back then there was more to me than this believe it or not," Bonez explained as he knocked on his rib cage and made a hollow "thud."

Bonez removed the black box cover, "Anyway, I won't bore you with the details. Just know it's been sitting here for a while. Hopefully it's still in one piece."

Inside the box was a soft folded white silk cloth with gold around the trim.

The Arabic words "ابن المستكشف" were monogrammed into one corner which Bonez translated to "Ibn Almustakshaf." It took the simple pull of two boney metacarpals and it was there, staring them all in the face.

Timothee felt his heart skip a beat as he looked down at the wand. It was black as midnight with a high luster sheen. The handle and the wand itself were seamless. It was only partitioned by a gold band around the throat of the undulating handle. It looked more like a fine pen than a wand.

"Go on," Bonez urged, "Take it for a whirl."

Timothee peered into Bonez's shadowed sockets before looking back down to the wand. His old wand looked nothing like this.

Reaching his fingers in, he pulled the wand out and held it in his hands. It was light, almost as if he wasn't holding anything in his hands at all and the balance was impeccable. Timothee wondered if he could balance the wand on one finger. Rolling the wand between his pointer finger and thumb, he read a gold inscription in the handle, "تعرف نفسك"

"Know Thyself," Bonez translated.

Timothee looked at Bonez.

"Wise words from a wise wizard. Follow them and there is nothing you can't do with that wand," Bonez promised, "Go on and give it a flick."

Timothee swallowed. He hesitated, thinking of the consequences he faced before he felt the weight of a hand on his shoulder.

"Go on," Theo smiled, before giving a light squeeze.

Timothee's fingers trembled as he held the wand up. It felt as if the wand hummed in his hand. Like the very magical essence of it was just bursting to get out. With a simple flick of the wrist, there was a calm "Hussss" as all the candles in the shop went out, like they were lulled to sleep.

They stood there in the darkness before Bonez said, "Go on, do it again."

And with another soft flick, all the candles "Puffed" back to life as if to wake once again.

The muscles under Timothee's face tightened as he grinned.

"Feels good huh?" Bonez asked.

Timothee nodded before setting the wand back in the black box.

"Twenty galleons," Bonez said.

"Twenty galleons!" Theo yelled in disbelief, "That's four times as much as my wand cost!"

"A wand like this is hard to find," Bonez insisted.

Timothee couldn't take his eyes off of the wand. He felt something burn deep inside of him when he used it. Something that had been dormant for many months inside of him was awakened once again. It was magic and oh how easy it had been. He didn't have to concentrate, he didn't have to think of happy thoughts or sad thoughts or his parents, and it was effortless, natural.

Pulling up his sleeve, Theo looked at the watch on his wrist, "Shoot we are going to be late!"

He took the wand from Timothee's hands and placed it back in the wooden box. Grabbing Timothee by the wrist, he practically dragged him from the wand shop as Bonez called out, "Okay seventeen galleons!" but before Timothee could entertain the idea for a second longer, they were sloshing across the muddy streets towards the bookstore one block away.

By the time Timothee and Theo arrived at Crane's bookstore, a small group of wizards and witches had gathered in the back of the shop. The two teens weaved their way through the crowd until they found Abigail and Archie.

A small table was set out with two piles of books on either side. On each pile was an upright book titled, Magical History Brought to Life Part 3 by Bartholomew Henry Periwinkle. On the cover of the book was a wand with a wispy memory dancing on the end like candle smoke.

"You're late," Archie whispered, pointing to his wrist watch.

Timothee noticed the small cauldron Archie was carrying.

"We got held up," Theo replied, "Nice cauldron."

"Thanks," Archie whispered, "I figured I could try my hands at a few potions."

Timothee looked to Abigail who was munching on a baked treat, "Is that a Pumpkin Pastie?"

Abigail nodded happily, "Daniel gave it to me in Katrina's Candies. He bought a whole crate for Mrs. Cole."

"Who's that?" Timothee asked.

"She was the lady that ran the orphanage he and his brother grew up in. You guys should stop by there after this. Although I must admit most ghost food is pretty gross."

"Why is that?"

"Most of it is rotten. Old fish and stinky cheese, it smelled terrible. I almost left until Daniel showed me where the 'living' section of the store was. That's where the good stuff was," Abigail explained and lifted up a full shopping bag.

"Shhhh!" Archie hissed, "He's here!"

The back door to Crane's Bookstore opened and a tall wizard emerged wearing a black robe with grey stars patterned from top to bottom. He walked behind the table that was set out and scanned the crowd with his big blue eyes. Patting down his grey wavy hair, he cleared his throat and pulled out his willow wood wand.

"History…" Bartholomew Henry Periwinkle started in a dramatic tone, "That ever living, ever evolving, ever creating part of life."

He pressed the wand to his temple, pulled a memory from his head and waived it in a high arc. The wispy memory no bigger than a ribbon grew to the size of a banner and inside was prominent wizards and witches of history.

Archie's face lit up as he pointed, leaned over and whispered, "That's Newton Scamander! And that's Nicolas Flamel... and… and… that is Quong Po, the famous dragonologist!"

"Shhh," An older wizard hushed from behind Archie.

"Sorry," Archie whispered.

Bartholomew gaze fell upon the teens, "Like footsteps in the snow or handprints on a window, we leave a piece of us where ever we go. Pieces for others to see like bread crumbs for others to follow. To postulate how we lived, how we loved, who we were. Magical History Brought to Life doesn't just show you the footsteps in the snow, it lets you see the wizards and witches as they make them. Don't read history like those other books, live the history with my book!"

The small crowd began to applaud as "Magical History Brought to Life" appeared in gold lettering in the banner above.

Bartholomew bowed his head, his grey wavy locks falling forward, "Thank you! Thank you! Please pick up your signed copy today and I will be more than happy to answer your questions."

The witches and wizards assembled into a line fifteen deep and waited to get their books signed.

"Why are we here again?" Abigail said, "I mean there are so many cool things we can see right now, why are we in a book store?"

"Because he is a famous historian, maybe he can help us with our little sleeping problem back home," Archie said between his teeth as he looked around to those nearest them.

"I see," Abigail said. The witch ahead of them moved out of line with her signed book and the four of teens found themselves standing in front of the small wooden table.

"How many copies?" Bartholomew asked.

"I'll take one for sure!" Archie answered.

Bartholomew looked at the others, who avoided eye contact with him, "Just one it is."

A book floated from the pile and flipped open its' cover. A black quill jumped from its inkwell and prepared to write, "Who should I make this out to?"

"Archimedes Antonopoulos"

Bartholomew's blue eyes lit up, "Archimedes you say?"

The floating black quill over the book began to scribble before the book snapped closed and floated over to Archie.

"Three sickles," Bartholomew requested.

"Yes sir," Archie replied, reaching into his pocket.

"If this is your first time reading one of my books, I must warn you that they can be a little lively" Bartholomew confessed.

"I've read Magical History Brought to Life Part 2 nine times from cover to cover! Or should I say I lived it! I love your chapter on dragons and the Warlock's Convention of 1709!"

"It was quite the chapter," Bartholomew admitted. He seemed flattered by the young pupil, "You seem to have the makings of a young historian yourself."

"I am enthusiastic to put it lightly," Archie said.

"More like obsessed," Abigail whispered.

Archie looked down at his freshly signed copy, "I do have some questions though."

"Name it my dear boy," Bartholomew encouraged.

"Well," Archie said, "I wonder how it all works. I mean one moment you're sitting in a chair and the next moment you are watching Godric Gryffindor creating the sorting hat or Edgar Strouglar inventing the Sneakoscope."

The corner of Bartholomew's lip rose in a sly grin, "Normally I would say, 'trade secret' but I don't think I could deny a young wizard the opportunity to learn a thing or two."

"Oh he's not a," Abigail started but was cut off as an elbow jabbed into her ribs by Theo.

Bartholomew looked at Abigail before his blue eyed gaze fell back onto Archie, "Have you ever heard of a Pensieve?"

"It's a way for wizards to siphon thoughts," Archie answered.

"Exactly," Bartholomew continued as he pulled out his wand and tapped it to his head once, "A wizard simply has to pull a memory or a thought from his head and place it into a Pensieve. Then he or she can relive any moment they want. In my book each page is like its' own Pensieve already loaded with the memories of others, just waiting for you to live them."

"But all those wizards are dead with the exception of Flemel. How could you get their memories?"

"Well now, that's the question isn't it?" Bartholomew said with an added wink. Reaching into the pocket of his robes, he pulled out a small medallion and handed it to Archie. It was a round gold disk with a dragon on one side and Chinese characters on the other.

Theo leaned in to get a better look, "What is it?"

Bartholomew leaned forward, "That is a four hundred year old medallion of a Chinese Fireball. It belonged to famous dragonologist…"

"Quong Po," Archie said.

"Merlin's Beard, you are quite the sharp lad," Bartholomew replied, "Yes, that is a personal item that belonged to Quong Po. And if I do this…" Bartholomew pressed the tip of his wand to the medallion and whispered "Vitae Faraham" before slowly pulling the wand away from the gold dragon medallion. From the tip of the willow wand a grey wisp slowly came out.

Timothee whispered, "It's a memory…"

"Imprint, I like to call it but there you have it," Bartholomew said triumphantly. With a wave of his wand, the memory vanished into the medallion.

"Thank you," Archie said and handed the medallion back, "Can I ask one more question?"

An old crotchety wizard tapped Archie on the shoulder with his cane, "Boy you've been at it for fortnight! I have a book that needs signing!"

"I'll be really quick! I promise!" Archie said.

"Real quick," Bartholomew promised the old wizard.

Archie turned back to the wizard historian, "What happened to Part 1?"

Bartholomew's smile faded, "Destroyed."

"Destroyed, but why?" Archie asked.

"The Ministry of magic deemed my book dangerous and had every copy destroyed."

"But why? Why would they destroy a book?" Archie pleaded.

"Come now boy," Bartholomew said as he waived Archie away, "I have books I need signing."

"But," Archie asked as the old wizard behind him worked his way in front of Archie.

Grabbing his book, he led the others away from the table.

"Can you believe that? They destroyed his first book!" Archie said, turning back to the others as they walked towards the front door.

"Strange," Theo noted.

"Strange yes," Abigail added, "But how does that help us with our 'curse' problem?"

Archie's bewilderment grew, "Uh… well… I am not sure. Maybe we head over to Katrina's Candies and mull it over?"

"Sounds good to me," Theo said.

"I could always go back," Abigail grinned.

Archie turned to Timothee, "What about you? Maybe we can get some Pumpkin Pasties?"

"I… I… I don't know," Timothee replied distractedly. He grabbed for his chest and gave it a light squeeze, "I'll be back," and walked back towards Bartholomew.

"Timothee!" Theo called.

Timothee shouted over his shoulder, "You guys go ahead to Katrina's Candies. I'll meet you there."

Timothee waited until the last person in line had his or her book signed before walking to Bartholomew who began to pack up his things. With a wave of his wand, the books and table zipped into a large chest in the corner of the room.

"Monsieur Bartholomew," He asked timidly.

"Yes," Bartholomew said turning around.

"I have a question."

"You were with the Archimedes boy? If it's about my book, I say no more!"

Timothee placed a hand over the rings under his shirt, "No, it's not that. I was wondering if you could pull memories from any object?"

Bartholomew nodded his head from side to side as he mulled it over, "I must admit that there are some objects that are difficult to pull memories from, especially those with enchantments. And I find that if an object is a fake or didn't belong to the witch or wizard that I was looking for that I either get nothing or the memories of some less notable wizard or witch. I once bought some hairs from a merchant in Wiltshire who said they were from Merlin's beard. To my disappointment they were back hairs from a forest troll." Bartholomew said as he wiped his brow.

Timothee bit his lip as he pulled his silver chain over his head and exposed two gold rings, "Could you, um, pull a memory from these?"

Bartholomew leaned forward and looked at the two rings, "Is it a family heirloom of sorts? I hate to say it but most relics are fakes."

"They belonged to my parents," Timothee replied, "They. They aren't here anymore."

"Oh," Bartholomew said.

Timothee stood in silence holding the rings in his palm. He looked down at the tarnished gold and worn stones.

"Come with me to my office," Bartholomew offered with an extended hand.

Timothee walked towards the door at the back of the bookstore that Bartholomew had walked through earlier.

"That's not my office," Bartholomew said.

"It's not?" Timothee asked looking around.

"Right this way," Bartholomew answered, as he walked over to the chest and lifted the top. He stepped into it and slowly disappeared inside as if he were going down a flight of stairs.

Timothee walked over to the chest and peered down a long row of stone steps and placed his foot inside. His shoes tapped against the stone staircase as he made his way down one by one until reached the final level. Looking around, Timothee saw piles and piles of what he could only describe as junk. Old knick knacks and odd totems filled rows of shelves and book cases and formed small piles on the ground. There was a large golden chandelier placed on an old wooden dining table and a broken broom draped over a chair.

Bartholomew looked around, "Like I said, most of the stuff people offer doesn't have any historical significance at all."

Bartholomew passed a stack of his books, "I sell these in order to purchase more objects for my next book."

In the back of the office was an intricately designed stand made from iron bars. The iron was twisted, bent and looped and reminded Timothee of an old willow tree. At the top was a large bowl that was reflective like a mirror.

"Is that the Pensieve?" Timothee asked.

Bartholomew nodded and waived him over.

Timothee peered inside the silver bowl and saw a swirling liquid with all the painted colors of a nebula. Blues, pinks and greens floated dreamily in a sea of black.

Timothee handed over the rings to Bartholomew who already had his willow wand out.

Grabbing the rings, the old wizards' blue eyes studied the golden loops, "A center stone of red, accented with white stones and a center stone of blue, accented with the same. Which one would you like me to pull from?"

Timothee never thought of it, never believed that he would be given this opportunity.

"Well?" Bartholomew asked.

"I…" Timothee said, "The red was my father's and the blue was my mother's."

"How about we start with the red then?" Bartholomew suggested.

Timothee agreed.

Placing his wand on the red ruby, Bartholomew whispered "Vitae Faraham" before delicately pulling his wand from the ring, "I find that the older the imprint, the more delicate it seems to be. If you are not careful, you can tear the memory in half and loose it forever." His blue eyes stayed focused on the wispy memory as it was drawn from the ring and released over the pensive. The memory fluttered down like a feather before settling and dissolving in the Pensieve. As soon as it was gone, the water began to churn and bubble.

"After you," Bartholomew waved.

"How does it work?" Timothee asked.

"All you have to do is look in."

Timothee placed a hand on either side of the silver bowl and slowly leaned his face in. Without warning he felt the sudden rush of falling as he hurtled deeper and deeper into the memory. It felt as if he was falling through the clouds before he landed in a room he did not recognize. It was a living room similar to that of his grandmother's. A small blonde toddler played with a stuffed brown bear.

"Un, deux, trois," The bear said.

"Un, deux, trois!" The toddler shrieked and clapped.

"That's Ursa and he can talk," Timothee realized, "And that's…me."

There was a loud creak from the stairwell behind him and he turned around.

"Papa!" The small boy shouted as a tall man with a slender nose and pronounced jaw came down the stairs. His eyes were blue with flecks of green and around his finger he had a gold band with a red stone.

"Father," Timothee whispered. He looked so real as if he could reach out and touch him.

"My boy!" Édouard said as he walked into the living room, grabbed his infant son, and picked him up, "you grow bigger everyday!"

Timothee watched as his father held him with a love, joy, and pride he could never have imagined.

"Time for lunch," A woman called as she exited the kitchen and entered the living room. She kissed her husband and took their infant son from him. They walked into the dining area together with the stuffed bear following behind.

"Mom," Timothee whispered as he placed a hand in his blonde hair that was just like hers. He hurried behind them into the dining room where a beautiful spread of roasted chicken and vegetables were laid out.

Timothee watched his family together as they enjoyed their meal. He smiled when his mom gave up on trying to feed him when his infant self demanded to be fed by Ursa and he took notice that his father liked to read the muggle newspaper at the table.

To hear their voices for the first time, to see them alive and how they loved each other so much filled his soul with a piece that had been missing for years. It was no longer a story from his grandmother or some moving picture that only showed a small fleeting moment. This was his mother and father alive, as they had actually been in everyday life. They discussed their work as Aurors and Timothee couldn't help but feel a sense of pride, pride in who they were and what they did.

It wasn't long before his Mother cleared her plate and left the room.

Timothee's father, Édouard, pulled his wand from his pocket and pointed it to a candle in the middle of the table. Looking back into the kitchen, he checked to make sure his wife was still preoccupied.

"Timothee," He whispered in an attempt to get his son's attention.

"Yes?" Timothee answered even though his father couldn't hear him.

He observed the small toddler look away from the bear and watch as his Father flicked his wand. The candle in the center of dining table ignited.

"Avem Ignis" Édouard whispered and waved his wand over the flame.

The small fire shuttered before a miniature phoenix of flame soared and flew into the air. It made a small screeching sound as it climbed towards the ceiling and then dove by tucking its' flaming orange and yellow wings. Before hitting the table, the small bird opened its' wings and climbed high into the room where it circled around the ceiling light.

The toddler went wild at the sight of the bird and pointed his small pink finger as the phoenix flew around the room.

"You see my son? This is how magic should be. It should always be beautiful," Édouard whispered as she placed a hand on his son's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Many will use their talents for their own gains but always remember that it is our responsibility to use our gifts for beautiful things, to help and to love."

"Papa! Oiseau!" The child shouted again as he made a high pitched squeal of joy. "Look Ursa! Oiseau!"

"Édouard!" Christiane yelled from the kitchen, "You better not be starting fires in my dining room! Last time you set our curtains on fire!"

"No mon amour!" Édouard called back innocently as he flicked his wand and the fiery phoenix disappeared into a wisp of smoke.

Édouard turned back to his infant son and held a finger to his mouth, making a shushing gesture. The young child copied his father by raising his finger in the same manner. Édouard smiled at his son's mimicry and leaned over and kissed him on the top of his head. "I love you," He whispered before standing from the table.

Timothee wiped a tear from his cheek and whispered, "I love you too..."

He felt a sudden pull from the base of his stomach, "No!" He shouted, "I am not ready to go!" but no matter what he did, he felt himself being lifted away faster and faster from the room as it disappeared into rolling clouds.

With a sudden jerk of his body, Timothee found himself gripping either side of the pensive, looking at the swirling liquid below. Timothee immediately began to lean back into the pensive but he felt a hand grab his shoulder to stop him.

"I want to go back," Timothee protested.

"You shouldn't," Bartholomew replied.

"I need to go back!" Timothee demanded.

"A wise wizard once said, 'it does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.' I tell myself that every time I view these memories of days gone by," Bartholomew explained as he pulled the memory from the Pensieve and herded it back into the ring with the red stone. Taking the rings and silver chain, he poured them into Timothee's palm, "That memory will be with you always."

Timothee squeezed the rings before pulling the necklace over his head. He turned and walked back to the grey stone stair case and stopped.

"Why did you do this for me?" Timothee asked.

"You are Timothee Partée are you not?" Bartholomew said, "Son of Édouard and Christiane Partée? I recognized your father. He saved my life."

Timothee turned from the stairs, "You knew my father?"

"Knew him? No," Bartholomew confessed, "But I did meet him once. He was a great wizard who was willing to give up a lot for those he loved. He was after something very dangerous. Something that could change our world as we know it."

"What was it?" Timothee asked.

Bartholomew sighed, "That might be a story for another time."

"You said he saved you?"

"He did."

"Then help me. Did he die because of what he was after?"

"I do not know Timothee. I was not there at his end."

Timothee turned to walk up the stairs of the small traveling chest.

"Wait," Bartholomew called.

Timothee stopped in his tracks.

Batholomew waived his wand and a shelf filled with items slowly pulled apart revealing a metal safe. Walking over, he placed his hand on the door and whispered an incantation. There was a loud churning sound of metal pins and levers and the door swung open. Bartholomew grabbed something inside and walked over to Timothee, handing over a small book

"Magical History Brought to Life Part 1" Timothee read aloud.

Bartholomew's big blue eyes locked with Timothee's brown and green eyes, "This book has been barred from the public so you cannot tell anyone you have it. If the ministry finds out that you do have this book it will be destroyed and who knows what will happen to you. I promise you it is the last one in existence but the answer you seek about your father is in there."

"Thank you," Timothee said.

"You must go now," Bartholomew replied.

Timothee walked up the stairs with the sound of his parent's voice still fresh in his mind. The way they loved him still imprinted on his soul. He made his way towards Katrina's Candies where his friends were waiting outside next to Daniel Spoon.

"You lot ready to go?" Daniel asked.

Theo turned to Timothee, "Do you want to get some candy first?"

"No, I am okay," Timothee answered.

"Here," Timothee said, handing the book to Archie.

"You got it!" Archie said excitedly.

"No one can know you have this. I mean no one," Timothee clarified.

"You didn't steal it did you?"

"No. Just promise, okay?"

"Yeah, I promise," Archie swore, "I can't wait to look inside."

"Bartholomew said that there was something about my family in there. You think you could look into it for me?"

Archie nodded, "Of course."

"Alright then, if everybody is ready to go," Daniel said, "Right this way."

He led the teenagers to an alley way where no one could see them and pulled out his tarnished silver spoon. With a small flick of his wand, there was an audible "Pop!" and they were gone.

The ground in Precious Boutique shuttered as the fine china in the room rattled from their arrival. When they appeared, there was a deafening hiss and Timothee had to cover their ears.

"What is that?"Archie yelled to Theo who just shook his head and mouthed, "I can't understand you!"

Abigail ran over to the radio and turned the dial down. A humming sound still vibrated in the air with energy.

"Ugh, that is better!" She said.

"Hey," Abigail said, pointing to Kevin the store clerk. He was sleeping with his elbow on the glass counter and a blue liquid pooled on the glass countertop below. His eyes were closed and he made a light snoring sound.

"Kevin! Hello!" Archie shouted as he waved his hand in front of his face.

Theo walked over and placed a hand on Kevin's shoulder and gave it a light shake but Kevin did not wake.

Abigail dipped her finger in the blue liquid and wafted it, "Wizergen. What is going on?"

"I don't know," Timothee added but when he turned around, he saw Daniel had fallen asleep standing in the spot they had apparated.

"It's the curse," Archie said as he walked over to Daniel and gave him a light shake as well.

Timothee looked around, "Why aren't we asleep then?"

"We took the Wizergen," Abigail answered, "It actually worked!"

Theo pointed towards the store front, "Look outside!"

The group made their way out of Precious Boutiques and onto the sidewalk where most of the town folk stood completely still, sleeping in place. A small child held a floating balloon in one hand and her mother's hand in the other. In the middle of Main Street were two small boys holding the sides of a banner that read, "Witchaven Annual Homecoming Parade."

Archie pointed up, "Look at the sky!"

Colors danced all around them high in the atmosphere like Aurora Borealis. Sheets of neon green, purple and blue, swayed back and forward.

"What do you think caused that?" Theo said.

"It must be the curse," Archie guessed, "Auroras are caused when electrons hit the atmosphere. There must be so much magic in the air that it is charging the sky. That's why the radio was nothing but static."

"But how do we make it stop Arch?" Abigail asked.

"I don't know," Archie answered.

Chapter 13

Thorne and Thistle

"They are all… sleeping." Theo said as he walked through the crowd, examining each person he passed. The citizens of Witchaven lined the streets on either side like statues frozen in time.

"How long do you think they have been like this?" Abigail asked as she walked into the street. The Witchaven High marching band was sleeping in perfect formation with their instruments still in their hands. The drum major slept mid stride with one knee held up and his baton mid twirl.

Archie pointed to a small boy holding a cone filled with melted vanilla ice cream that ran down his fingers and dripped a small pallid puddle on the sidewalk below, "I would say for a while given the state of this ice cream."

"It's like they all just… froze," Theo said, observing a police officer on the sidewalk.

"WHERE IS HE!" a high pitch voice cried out from down the street.

The four teens froze.

"Quick, come here!" Archie whispered to the others.

"Who was that?" Abigail said.

"I DO NOT SEE HIM!" a different high pitched voice shouted a bit closer.

Archie handed out vials of Wizergen, "Here! Quick, take these and then hide amongst the crowd."

"MASTER WILL BE DISPLEASED!" The original voice whined.

"DISPLEASED INDEED! WE WILL BE PUNISHED!"

"OH I HATE PUNISHMENT! I HATE IT I DO!"

The teens downed the vials and stood frozen the best they could amongst the Witchaven townsfolk.

They heard the approaching voices as they got louder and louder. They whined relentlessly as they searched.

"Abigail, stop wiggling your nose!" Archie whispered.

"I can't help it!" She whispered back, "My nose itches!"

"You're going to give us away!" Archie said.

"Shhhh!" Theo hissed, "They are here!"

Timothee barely opened his eyes as two blurry figures no taller than four feet waddled down Witchaven's Main Street. They had large bulbous noses, pointy ears, beady black eyes and bald egg shaped heads. They wore matching outfits and looked identical in their dirty brown vests and shredded white under shirts. Their pants were also shredded and they were barefoot as they walked around with long curled toenails.

"They look like goblins," Timothee thought as he opened one eye but something about them didn't look quite right. They were taller than your typical goblin and the shape of their heads seemed different. They're appearance was like a puzzle piece that just didn't fit quite right.

"Master will be so displeased, so displeased!" The first goblin wailed.

"Shut up! We will find the child!" The second goblin jeered.

The first goblin turned his head to the second, "This was our chance! This was our chance to do right by Master."

"Shut up I said! We will find the child," The second replied looking into the crowds.

"We've been up and down these streets for an hour! He is not here!"

"He is here! Master said he will be here and Master is never wrong!"

"Then why haven't we," The first goblin started but stopped as his gaze peered over his counterpart.

Timothee snapped his eye shut as he made eye contact with the beady black eyes, "Stupid! Stupid!" He thought, "Why did I have to look? Why did I have to look?"

"There! Right there!" One of the goblins said.

With his eyes closed, Timothee could not distinguish who was talking.

Their voice got closer and more excited, "Yes! It is the child! Master will be so pleased with our work! Master will reward us ten times over."

"Quick grab him and let's go!"

"Petrificus Totalus!" reverberated through the air.

Timothee felt his whole body freeze up as his eyes shot open. He slowly felt himself fall backwards but was unable to catch himself. He tried to scream as he fell back but there was nothing he could do. He braced himself for the pain he would undoubtedly feel from hitting the hard concrete that rushed up towards him.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" The second creature casted. In that instant, Timothee went from falling to floating as his body hovered in the air.

The goblin that had conjured the floating spell, tucked his wand into his vest pocket and led Timothee into the street.

"Time to go back!" The first goblin grinned. His row of gleaming white teeth glistened in the setting sun.

Timothee's heart was beating at a mile a minute as he did everything in his power to try and free himself from the curse but his efforts yielded no success.

"Where are they taking me?" He wondered, "And what does this Master want with me?"

He tried to cry out for help, "Please! Archie, Theo, Abigail! Anyone! Please don't let them take me!" but his words only came out as, "HhhhhhhMMMmmmmmmHHhhhmmmmm!"

"Wait!" Theo shrieked, bursting from the crowd and into the street.

Abigail and Archie jumped out from behind him.

Abigail took a step forward, "You can't take him!" Her black skeleton key secure in her right balled fist.

The first goblin turned to the teenagers, "They do not sleep?"

"They do not sleep at all," The second goblin said.

The first goblin pointed towards his chest, "I am Thistle and he is Thorne!"

"I am Thorne and he is Thistle!" The second goblin repeated.

"Who are you?" They asked in unison.

Theo started, "I'm Theo. This is Abigail and Archie and we can't let you take our friend."

"Who is this friend?" Thorne asked.

Archie pointed to the rigid floating body, "Timothee, you have him in your spell."

Thistle leaned in, "I think they mean the child."

"Master wants this child," Thorne yelled back, "And Master gets what master wants!"

Thistle and Thorne turned to walk away with Timothee.

Theo turned to Archie and Abigail, "What do we do? We can't just let them take him!"

"Quick," Archie said, "What wizard money do you have left?"

Abigail reached into her pocket and pulled out a small pile of coins, "Two galleons, ten sickles and five knuts."

"Theo?" Archie asked.

"Four sickles and twelve knuts," He answered.

"Okay, I have one galleon, two sickles and five knuts. We need to pool them together," Archie strategized as he grabbed the others' coins. He turned back around, "Thorne! Thistle!"

"Leave us alone child!" Thorne called back.

"We must get back to the Master!" Thistle added.

"I have gold!" Archie shouted, as he held up the coins in his hands. He gave the coins a shake so that they made noise.

Thorne and Thistle stopped in their tracks.

"We will pay you for our friend!" Archie offered.

"Hmmm…" Thorne hummed.

"Gold," Thistle said as he turned around. A twinkle in his eye had appeared.

"I read once that goblins love gold," Archie said, "So my offer, gold for our friend."

"Yuk. Goblins he called us," Thorne said.

"Goblins we are not!" Thistle hollered back, "We are troblins!"

"Troblins?" Archie asked, walking closer to Thorne and Thistle with Theo and Abigail close behind, "I've never heard of troblins before."

"Master made us from Trolls and Goblins," Thorne explained.

"Made us master did," Thistle said proudly.

"Fine," Archie said, "Do we have a deal then? Gold for our friend? Surely troblins such as yourselves like gold?"

"No deal!" Thorne shouted.

"No indeed!" Thistle followed, "This child belongs to the Master!"

Thorne and Thistle began to turn back around.

"What about a wager?" Theo blurted out.

The Troblins turned, this time, the hint of excitement grew.

"Wager he says Thistle?" Said Thorne.

Thistle grinned, "Wager he wants Thorne."

"Wager he should get Thistle. We can have the boy and the gold. Master will be doubly so pleased,"

Thistle pointed a long finger with a curled pointy nail at Theo, "Alright wizard! Wager it is! Wager we play. For gold and the boy! Winner gets both but Thorne and Thistle gets to name the game!"

"Agreed?" Thorne added.

Abigail looked at Theo and Archie, "Are we actually going to do this?"

Theo whispered, "Do we have any other choice?"

"Go for it," Archie said confidently, "We need to get Timothee back."

"Deal!" Theo answered.

"What should be our game?" Said Thorne with a pointy grin.

"Hmmmm," Thistle hummed as he stroked a long nail against the bottom of his chin, "Quodpod? Gobstones? Explonding Snap? All could win us the wager Thorne."

"Win indeed," Thorne said, "Wizard Skittles, Snitch Snatcher and Wizard's Chess has never failed us either Thistle."

The two goblins began making harsh rasping sounds to one another. They would look at the three teenagers before going back to the guttural sounds.

"What are they doing?" Abigail asked.

"I think it is Gobbledegook," Archie said.

"Gobbledegook?" Abigail repeated.

"It's Goblin language," Archie explained.

Archie looked at Timothee who continued to make small mumbling sounds, "How many of those games have you played Theo?"

"Me?" Theo said nervously, "Why do you assume I've played those games? You're the brain."

"Didn't the kids at Salem play wizarding games?" Archie asked.

Theo rubbed the back of his neck, "I mean, yeah, some games but it has been so long that I don't remember half of them."

"Well we need to be ready for whatever they come up with," Abigail insisted, holding up her black key, "No matter what, we don't let them take Timothee. Even if it comes to a fight."

Theo pulled out his pen, "Got it."

"Oh great, what am I going to use?" Archie said, "I can't do magic!"

"I don't know, but you will think of something," Abigail said. She looked back at the Goblins to make sure they were still conversing, "No matter what."

"No matter what," The other two repeated.

"We have it!" Thorne and Thistle shouted.

"Well, what is it?" Theo asked.

"We will play the oldest of the goblin games!" Thistle said.

"The Game of Names!" Thorne shrieked.

"How does it work?" Archie asked.

"Guess who's Thistle!" Said Thorne.

"Guess who's Thorne!" Said Thistle.

There were two loud popping sounds as the troblins disappeared in a cloud of smoke and reappeared moments later in the same spot.

"Get it right!" Said the first troblin.

"And get your reward!" Said the second troblin.

"Warning though!" Said the first troblin.

There was another set of loud pops as the troblins disapperated for a second time, and apparated behind the teenagers.

"Three tries only or the reward is ours!" Said the two troblins in unison.

"Easy!" Abigail said. She took a step forward and pointed to the troblin on the right, "you're Thistle!" She pointed to the Troblin on the left, "you're Thorne!"

"Wrong!" They shouted back in unison.

"What are you doing?" Theo said.

"It's simple. Now all you have to do is guess the opposite," Abigail explained.

"Brilliant," Archie realized. He turned back to the troblins and just as he began to point, they disappeared and reappeared in the same exact spot, "Uh oh…"

"What's wrong?" Abigail asked.

Archie's eyes darted from left to right as he tried to find any minutia of change, "I don't know if they swapped locations or stayed in the same spot."

The two Troblins locked arms and began to dance in a circle and sing:

"Two guesses left! It's the oldest game.

Goblins dance and goblins sing.

Rumpelstiltskin was the first to play.

But he lost, not us today!

Grashkesh Grakki Hashka Hee!

Eshka, Lokesh, Tershka Ree!"

There were two loud pops and the troblins disappeared again, this time emerging back in the original spot they had appeared.

"Your second guess! Now!" The first troblin demanded.

Archie turned to the others, "What should I do?"

"Okay," Said Abigail, "Archie you guess slowly and then Theo, make sure you guess before they have a chance to change spots. I'll try to distract them after Archie's guess so they can't disapparate again. Got it?"

"Got it" The other two boys said.

Archie closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Come on boy!" Said the troblin on the left, "We don't have all day. Master is waiting for us."

Archie pointed to the troblin on the left, "You're Thistle… and… you're…" He slowly swayed his finger to the other Troblin, "Thorne…"

"Wrong!" The troblins shouted, "Only one guess!"

"Now!" Shouted Abigail as she made a hard pitching motion towards a parked car. There was a loud, "Woosh!" and the sound of shattering glass as the front windshield exploded in a million pieces.

"You're Th…" Theo started as he pointed to the troblin on the right.

The head of the troblin to the left shot back at the two teenagers, "Ah, ah!" he said as he whipped out his wand and gave it a blindingly fast flick.

Before Theo could finish his first guess, there was a loud, "Bang!" and everything went grey.

Abigail, Archie and Theo began to cough as they tried to wave the smoke away from their face. Each breath was a struggle with the burning inside their lungs.

A troblin's voice called from beyond the smoke, "Clever child!"

"Clever indeed Thorne!" Thistle shouted back.

There were two loud pops from beyond the smoke.

"One more!" The troblins shouted.

"Well there goes that plan," Archie wheezed.

"Looks like we are in for a fight," Abigail rasped, "I really thought that would work."

"Maybe we offer a trade?" Archie proposed in short gasps, "I take Timothee's place? That way we have three wizards versus the troblins?"

"I got an idea," Theo coughed.

"What is it?" Archie asked. His eyes squinted from the burning smoke.

Theo walked towards the troblins mumbling to himself, "Aw man, Timothee you better do my homework for the rest of the year if this works."

Theo emerged from the smoke rubbing his eyes. Abigail and Archie were close behind. They all let out small puttering coughs as the cloud of smoke was carried away with the wind.

"Good luck," Archie said.

Theo calmly turned to Archie and smiled, "Let's see what happens partner. I'm the fastest gun in the west."

"What are you talking about?" Archie asked.

Theo hunched his shoulders, "This town ain't big enough for the two of us."

Abigail turned to Archie and mouthed, "What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know," Archie mouthed back.

"Have at it boy!" The troblin on the left demanded.

"One guess left and the gold is ours!" The troblin on the right shouted with glee, "Oh Master will be so pleased. So pleased!"

Theo took a wide stance and began to walk forward like a cowboy in a western and asked, "How fast are ya?"

The two troblins exchanged a glance of bewilderment.

"I reckon we're done talking," Theo growled.

"I think the wizard boy grows tired of our game," The first troblin said.

"I think the wizard boy wants to duel," The second troblin added.

Their beady black eyes glistened and reflected the dancing northern lights above. Their teeth were small and pointed like shark teeth and their long fingers danced over their vest pockets.

"Draw!" Theo shouted as he held out his hand like a gun and yelled, "Bang! Bang!"

The two troblins drew their wands and fired two white funnels of light that hit Theo square in the chest. The young wizard flew back through the air ten feet and landed on his back.

Abigail and Archie ran back to Theo who was groaning as he rolled on the ground.

"Come on boy! We grow tired of your game!" Said the troblin on the left.

"Your last guess, now!" The troblin on the right demanded.

Timothee, let out a "Hmmmmhhmmmm" as he floated in the air.

Theo got to his feet and pointed to the Troblin on the left, "You're…You're… You're…" But before he could finish his guess, his face turned green.

"I think he's going to be sick," Abigail said.

Theo leaned forward and puked out a long slimy green slug. The slime was clear with black and grey specks in it.

"Oh gosh, a Slug-vomiting charm." Archie said as he held Theo's hand. He noticed a tar black liquid that had rubbed onto his palm, "Theo you're a genius!" He thought quietly.

Theo stood up and pointed to the troblins, "You're Thistle, and you are Thorne…" He said just before another slug came oozing from his mouth.

The two troblins exchanged a glance of utter terror.

"NO!" Said Thistle.

"This can't be!" Said Thorne, "We never lose Game of Names!"

"Again!" Said Thistle.

There were two loud puffs and the two Troblins appeared.

"Thorne, Thistle!" Theo said.

"Again!" They shouted and disapparated and apparated.

Theo pointed to the Troblin on the right, "Thistle" Then the left, "Thorne,"

"Again!"

"Thistle, Thorne!" Theo said as another slug came spewing out. His face was lime green and he wiped the oozy slime from his lips, "It's disgusting."

The Troblins tried three more times and each time, Theo was able to guess correctly.

"Nooo!" Thorne cried, looking up to the heavens.

"Master will punish us," Thistle whined.

"Punish us," Thorne repeated.

"Come on!" Abigail demanded, "You promised to give our friend back! You made a wager and you have to honor it!"

"Take him!" Thistle shouted and waved his wand.

Timothee was free again as he floated back to the ground.

"Mark my words wizards! This is not the last you've dealt with Thistle and Thorne!" Said Thistle.

"Not the last at all of Thorne and Thistle!" Thorne berated.

Timothee ran towards his friends.

Abigail pointed towards Precious Boutiques, "Quick, back to the shop just in case they come back."

They ran inside, all the while, slugs slowly spewing form Theo's mouth. Theo made a small whimper before gagging out another slug. This time it was auburn with a yellow stripe down the side.

Timothee grabbed a finely crafted crystal vase with a diamond pattern etched around the sides, "Here, use this."

"Thank…you…" Theo sniveled.

"How did you know?" Abigail asked.

"Luck," Theo said.

Timothee shook his head, "But you got it right so many times?"

Archie grabbed Theo's hand and held it up for the others to see. There was black ink all over his palms, "Liquid Luck," He explained.

"You drank your ink pen?" Timothee said.

Theo nodded queasily, "I thought it was the grossest thing I've tasted… I was wrong." He gasped as he leaned forward and vomited a hunter green slug.

"Merci," Timothee thanked as he hugged Theo, "But how did you know?"

"It was their wands," Theo explained, "For some reason, when I drank the Felix Felices, I felt the urge to duel them. Thorne's wand came from a Hawthorn tree and Thistles came from a Pine tree. Pine thistle is a plant. I saw it in the Wandlore painting from Bonez's shop. When they had their wands' drawn, I could distinguish the two. Thorne had hawthorn and Thistle had pine thistle. It was the only distinguishable difference between them."

In that moment the subtle hum in the air stopped and the town awoke. The Witchaven High School marching band started to play as the chatter from the crowd that lined the street resumed.

Daniel's head lifted up as he looked around the room, "Merlin's beard, what happened?"

"Goblins," Timothee said, "Well actually it was Troblins."

"Troblins?" Daniel replied.

"Can you help our friend?" Abigail asked.

"What's wrong with him?"

Just then another slug, a particularly large slug, was slimily spewed from Theo's pale green face.

"Ha!" Daniel laughed, "Haven't seen that in years."

With a simple wave of his spoon the slugs stopped coming and the color slowly began to return to Theo's face.

"Thank you," Archie said.

Daniel nodded and vanished.

There was a loud, "Clank!" followed by a long, "Ow!" from Kevin.

"Looks like things are back to normal," Archie said.

Theo, Timothee and Abigail looked at Archie in disbelief.

Archie hunched his shoulders, "Normal-ish?"


	5. Partee Child Part 5

Chapter 14

Core

Fall had come and gone and winter had finally arrived. The lush shades of orange and red were replaced by the ashen skeletal remains of birch trees for as far as the eye could see. Their white jagged and jarring branches bent in every direction.

A perpetual cold breeze had set in Witchaven which traveled from the north. Although snow had not yet fallen, the white bark of the birch trees made it look as if the first snow had already come. It was popular amongst the residents of Witchaven to claim that the first snow was due any day. Timothee heard many of his fellow students talk lovingly of the snow days that were sure to come.

Timothee and Theo were the first to lunch and so they sat at their usual table waiting for the others.

"Look at this Timothee!" Theo said, holding up a test with a giant "C-" written at the top, "This is all your fault! If I only had my pen I would still be getting A's and B's. My dad is going to kill me when he sees this."

Timothee took a bite of his sandwich before saying, "je suis désolé."

"What does that even mean?" Theo said as he folded the test and threw it in his backpack.

"I'm sorry," Timothee answered, "I can study with you next time if you think that will help?"

"I just want my pen to work like it did before." Theo said, shaking the pen next to his ear.

"Archie said he is working on brewing some Felix Felices," Timothee explained.

"I don't know if you realize this Timothee but Archie doesn't seem to be the best at potions. That Wizergen he brewed himself caused our nose hairs to grow three feet!"

Timothee nodded, "All skills take practice."

"Well then I'll tell him you volunteered to test his next batch."

"I hate Latin! The teacher always holds us late and the lunch line is so long by the time I get here," Abigail shouted as she threw her books onto the table and disappeared in the direction of the lunch line.

Theo shouted, "Maybe you should cut through the tunnel!"

"I don't want detention!" Abigail yelled back.

Timothee waived as Jena Barnwell walked past with Mary Povinski. To his disappointment, Jena paid no notice to the gesture.

Theo took a bite from an apple that he had packed in his lunch, "Still no luck?"

"Rien," Timothee answered.

"You and the French today," Theo noted.

"Je suis dés…" Timothee started but caught himself, "Sorry about that. I have a French exam later. I studied all night."

"Isn't French your first language?" Theo asked.

"You study for English exams don't you?"

"Good point," Theo noted, "Hey, where is Archie? I haven't seen him yet?"

"Not sure," Timothee replied, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure thing."

"Okay, why is Jena mad at me for not taking her to the dance? It doesn't make any sense. I didn't ditch her and take someone else. I didn't lie to her and say I was busy when I really wasn't."

Theo looked up from his apple, "Don't you see Timothee? She likes you."

"That's an odd way of showing it."

"Not really. Think about it. She had her heart set on going with you but since you couldn't take her she was disappointed, maybe even a little heartbroken."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know," Theo said, "Try and talk to her?"

"But she won't talk to me!"

"Well, there is only so much I can say Timothee. I don't have all the answers, maybe she will forgive you, maybe she won't."

"Ugh, girls are confusing at times."

"No different from us guys."

"Touché."

Archie came barreling through the cafeteria, nearly knocking the food tray out of a sophomore's hands.

"Slow down Mr. Antonopoulos!" Mr. Vandigraff ordered from across the cafeteria.

"Sorry!" Archie yelled over his shoulder as he reached the table. He dropped his book bag and took a seat. His face was red and he fought to catch his breath.

"What has you in such a rush?" Theo asked.

"I… I… I…" Archie gasped as he tried to finish a complete thought.

"Slow down," Timothee said.

Archie reached into his bag and pulled out a water bottle and took a long series of gulps.

"Okay," Theo said, "What has you rampaging through here. You know Mr. Vandigraff might give you detention."

Archie nodded, finally catching his breaths, "Oh boy, you guys are not going to believe this!"

"What is it?" Timothee asked.

Archie reached into his bag and pulled out a notebook and slid it across the table.

Theo opened the first page to a calendar with the large header "January" written at the top. As he flipped through the pages, they came across more months but what was of particular note was the occasional red square in each month.

"You don't think?" Theo said.

"I do," Archie replied, "It's a monthly planner and those circled dates match the magic spikes I've been tracking in the water. I think this person is working with Thorne and Thistle and maybe that Master they were talking about."

"Does it say anything about me in there?" Timothee asked.

"Nothing," Archie admitted, "I still don't know why they wanted you so badly. I mean, I get the whole troblins instead of Goblins the more I think of it though."

"Why is that?" Theo asked.

"Well goblins are incredibly clever and smart creatures where as trolls are rather dimwitted. Mix them together and you get a creature that can still perform magic while not being smart enough to rebel against you."

"What I miss," Abigail said as she placed her tray of food on the table.

Timothee slid the planner across the table, "Here"

"Where did you find this?" Abigail asked.

Archie took another swig of water before starting, "I was in the boys' locker room before gym class when I opened a locker to put my stuff in. Inside was this notebook. I didn't really pay it much mind, even asked around to see if anyone left it but no one said it was theirs. It wasn't until I opened it that I saw the dates. And it hit me. Once a month for every month there was a single highlighted date and it all made sense!"

"Do you realize who this belongs to?" Abigail asked. She opened the inside cover and at the bottom was the handwritten name "Vance Marlett."

"The rocket," Timothee said, "You think he is behind this?"

"Think about it?" Archie said, "Big tall guy who doesn't really talk to anyone. He is classic bad guy material."

"So what do we do?" Theo said, "I mean the guy can take all of us single handedly."

Abigail opened to December, "It looks like he has today highlighted."

"I noticed that too," Archie said, "I was looking for him all morning but he didn't come to school today, that's why I was late to lunch."

Abigail flipped through the planner, "So you think he could be, you know, poisoning our water right now?"

"I don't know but I have a plan," Archie said, "Let's meet after school at our spot."

Timothee, Theo and Abigail stood huddled together in the woods when Archie approached. Small white snow flurries had finally started to fall from the grey sky above and so the three teens stuck out their tongue towards the heavens in an attempt to catch a tasty snowflake.

"It's Freezing!" Theo shouted, his lower lip shivering, "Where were you?"

Abigail turned, "You know it gets dark early? My parents expect me home soon!"

"Sorry, I needed to get this stuff from Kevin," Archie explained. He had a small brown box under his arm which was slightly hidden by his large blue and gold puffy jacket. Kneeling down he opened the top.

"Abigail, this is for you," Archie said as he reached into the box and pulled out a long brown strand of hair.

"Eww, I don't want that," Abigail said, taking a step back.

"It's Veela hair," Archie explained.

"What am I supposed to do with it?"

"Wrap it around you key. It should act as a core and make your magic more powerful."

"Really?" she said, stepping forward and grabbing the long strand of brown hair. She pulled her skeleton key from inside her grey and green coat, "How should I wrap it?"

"You remember Daniel's spoon?" Archie asked.

"Kind of," She replied.

"Wrap it like that. Probably where the shank stem meets the bow."

"The what and the what?"

"Where the tube part meets the broad heady part."

"Ohhh, gotcha," She said and quickly got to work.

"Timothee, this one is for you," Archie explained and pulled out a long platinum colored strand of hair and handed it to him.

Timothee breathed into his hands in an attempt to warm them up before grabbing the hair.

"Unicorn tail," Timothee said in awe. He held it up and examined its' shine in the diming winter light, "It's beautiful."

"I figured you could wrap that around your rings."

Timothee nodded.

"What about me?" Theo asked.

"I was able to get something special for you Theo, but I don't know if they actually sold it to me. Hopefully you can tell."

"What is it?" Theo asked.

Timothee watched as Archie pulled out an empty glass canning jar and handed it to Theo.

Theo held it up and examined it, "Wow."

Abigail looked up from her key and watched as Theo examined what looked like an empty jar, "I don't see anything."

"It's Thestral hair," Archie explained, "Only visible to those who have seen death. That's why Theo can see it."

Theo unscrewed the lid.

"It's black like the darkest night," Theo said as he reached two fingers in and pulled out what looked to the others like nothing. Carefully he began a wrapping motion around his ornate pen.

"Thestral, huh?" Abigail said.

Archie, grabbed the empty jar, "Some powerful wands have been made from Thestral hair. All the pictures I've seen depict them as a grim Pegasus. Like a black horse hippogryph hybrid with dragon's wings."

Archie closed the box and stood up, "So who wants to go first?"

Abigail took a step forward, examining her black skeleton key with its' new Veela core. Her eyes wide with a wild excitement, "I'll go first. Out of the way!"

Timothee and Theo stepped aside while Archie grabbed the stone that they used to practice their magic on. He placed the stone on an old stump.

Abigail tucked her green lock of hair behind her ear and calmed her breathing. She focused on the stone, gripped the key tightly in her hand, wound up like a pitch, and fired her fist forward in a throwing motion.

There was a deep thrumming sound as a large purple ethereal wave came barreling from her fist and crashed into the stump. The stone flew like a bullet and disappeared in the forest. There was a tremendous tearing sound as the old tree stump was ripped from the earth and thrown on its side. Its' deep roots exposed resembled the gnarled hair of the Gorgon Medusa.

"Merlin's Beard!" Archie said, placing a hand on top of his head.

Timothee and Theo looked at each other, "Wow!"

"Neat," Abigail whispered as she looked at the key in her hand.

The smell of fresh earth carried with the wind.

"My turn!" Theo said excitedly, pen in hand. He pointed the pen at the stump. Then in one blindingly fast motion, he pointed his pen towards the heavens. There was a subtle tremble in the ground followed by a great big "Woooshh!" as the large earth filled stump went rocketing into the air. Black clumps of earth rained down on them as they tried to keep an eye on the stump above.

"Where is it?" Archie yelled.

"I don't know!" Theo said as he placed a hand over his eyes but the stump was lost in the darkening sky.

"Run!" Abigail shouted.

The others followed.

"Stop!" Timothee screamed as he began to run in the opposite direction.

They froze when they heard the cracking sound of branches shattering above their heads. Looking up they saw the earthen stump hurtling towards them.

Abigail tackled Theo and Archie at the last minute, just before the large black stump crashed down behind them, barely missing the teenagers by a foot.

Breathing heavily, they all exchanged the same terrified look. Slowly, the corners of Theo's mouth began to rise up in a smile.

"Can you believe that?" He laughed.

Soon Abigail followed suit as she got to her feet and brushed herself off.

Archie shook the mud out of his auburn hair, "I mean, I figured the cores would help but I did not expect this. We might need to find a way to dial it back some."

Abigail took her key and tossed it into the air before snatching it like a Golden Snitch, "I think mine is just fine. Thank you very much."

"Hey Timothee, why don't you give it a try?" Theo asked.

"Yeah! Let's see what you can do," Abigail followed.

"Okay," Timothee said confidently. He felt nervousness and excitement in the pit of his stomach at the same time.

"Remember, all you have to do is focus," Archie added.

The others cleared away from the stump as Timothee grabbed his two rings. They were bound on one side by the platinum unicorn hair.

"C'est parti," Timothee whispered.

Holding up his ringed hand, he pointed it towards the stump and started with a simple waving gesture. The stump rocked a little in place and settled.

"There you go!" Theo shouted.

"Come on Timothee," Abigail cheered.

"Move, move, move, move," Timothee repeated to himself.

"Clear your head," Archie said, "Let it happen naturally."

They stood for some time watching Timothee try to conjure up the magic to move the stump. Eventually, the frustration building, Timothee began to try more grandiose gestures of slashes, swishes and flicks but the tree stump refused to move.

Breathing heavily, Timothee placed both hands on his knees, the vein in his forehead throbbing and the white of his eyes had a red tint from the exertion.

Theo walked over and placed a hand on Timothee's shoulder, "Hey, it will happen. Don't sweat it."

Timothee shook his head, "I don't understand. Why can't I do magic anymore?"

"It's like what Archie said," Theo explained, "You just have to let it happen naturally. Think back to Bonez's shop. Your body knew what to do with a wand in your hand. All you have to do is retrain that same familiarity with those rings. Channel the magic through them."

"Exactly," Abigail added, "Theo and I never really used wands and so this is the only magic we know how to cast. I bet we would have a hard time with a wand… maybe even more than what you are having with your rings."

"I don't know," Timothee sighed, "Maybe I can't do it anymore."

"Non-sense," Archie said, "Time. It just will take some time."

Timothee stood straight up and began to walk away from the others. He heard Abigail and Theo behind him squabble over who was going to do what to the stump next. It wasn't long before he came to a small lake and took a seat at the bank. All around the water's edge were tall green cattails and barren winter forest. Small rippling waves beat against the shore as the dark murky water danced with the cold winter wind. Larger snowflakes had begun to fall and melt as they touched the surface of the water.

Timothee heard Archie's voice from over his shoulder, "How's it going?"

"Going," Timothee said glumly, "I never knew this lake was here."

Archie took a seat next to Timothee, "It's more of a large pond really," He pointed to the far side where two massive iron cylinders protruded from the forest, "You see those two large pipes on far side?"

"What are those?" Timothee asked.

"Witchaven Water Treatment," Archie answered, "My dad actually helped design their facility. They pump the water from this pond to be treated and stored at the Witchaven water tower all the way on the other side of town."

"Why can't I do magic?" Timothee asked bluntly. His brain clearly lost in different direction.

Archie stood to his feet, walked down to the bank and picked up a smooth disk shaped stone. He leaned to one side and chucked the stone, causing it to skip five times on the water.

"Honestly?" Archie asked looking back.

"Honest," Timothee replied.

"I have my thoughts. It could be any number of things from starting a new school, living in a new country to being kicked out of Wizarding School. Heck, just missing your old friends. Timothee you might not realize it but you have been through a whole lot this year. Add the fact that two troblins showed up looking for you last month and any one of those is enough to stress someone out."

"I guess I never considered that," Timothee acknowledged, "I've never really stopped to reflect… but then again I don't know if I want to."

"When you're ready, it's always good to think things through. Don't keep it bottled up inside otherwise you are just going to burst. I'm always here to talk or Theo or Abigail. Samuel and Mara sound pretty nice, I'm sure they would be happy to do the same. Just promise you won't keep it all bottled up."

Timothee nodded, "When I'm ready."

"Good," Archie said, "You know out of the three, I thought that you would benefit most from adding a core. Sure, Abigail and Theo have it down but they've had time to figure out wandless magic."

Timothee opened his palm and watched a white fluffy snowflake land on it. The small crystalline structure melted into a round clear drop of water before Timothee closed his hand again, "It's like my body just forgot what to do. Imagine if you woke up one day Archie and you weren't smart."

Archie chuckled, "What do you mean?"

"No, I'm serious. You're a smart guy. Imagine one day you woke up and you couldn't remember the answers to a test you studied for. You see the question, you remember studying it but the answer never arrives. You just sort of… blank. That is what it feels like for me not to do magic. I used to perform magic so effortlessly. Merlin's barbe, my ancestors have been doing magic for thousands of years. I know I am not a squib but I feel like one."

"You nearly popped a blood vessel trying to make that stump move. I've heard it's like riding a broom or for us muggles we say, it's like riding a bike. At first you might have a hard time but once you get used to it, you will be back to your normal self."

Timothee stood up from the bank and joined Archie at the water's edge. He grabbed a round rock and attempted to skip it on the pond's surface. The rock hit the water and made a loud "galoup!" as it disappeared in the murky depths.

Timothee looked down hopelessly and shook his head, "I can't do anything right."

"Here," Archie said as he handed Timothee a smooth stone, "My dad says skipping stones comes down to two things. The stone you pick and the angle of attack."

Archie picked another disk shaped stone for himself, leaned to one side and skipped it across the water, "Here, you try. You want the stone to almost hover across the top of the water."

Timothee leaned to one side and chucked the stone which skipped three times before being consumed by the murky depths.

Archie high fived Timothee, "See? There you go!"

There was a loud bang from the forest, followed by the echoed laughter of Theo and Abigail in the woods behind them.

"It's getting dark," Archie said, "I better go see what Tweedledee and Tweedledum got themselves into. Make sure they don't burn down the forest."

Timothee sat in the quiet of the water's edge with his hands tucked into the pockets of his margarine colored winter jacket. The fingers of his right hand danced over the outline of his parent's wedding bands. Now with the addition of the unicorn hair, the perfectly round surface was interrupted by a coarse section. There was something strangely satisfying by the sensation of the varying textures.

His father's words echoed in his thoughts, "You see my son? This is how magic should be. It should always be beautiful…to help and to love."

Timothee pulled the rings from his pocket and held them in his hand and whispered, "Vitae Faraham" but nothing happened. Timothee tried again and still there was nothing.

Closing his eyes and slowing his breathing, he relaxed his entire body. He began by blocking out the small sounds around him, the ripples in the water, the rustling of old fallen leaves and eventually was left with the beating of his own heart, "lub dub, lub dub, lub dub."

The beating was fast at first but slowed as he felt everything melt away, even the biting winter cold disappeared around him.

Barely audible, Timothee whispered, "Vitae Faraham."

Even with his eyes closed, Timothee sensed a bright light coming from his hand. Opening his eyes, his heart skipped a beat as a brilliantly reflective wisp danced in the center of the ring with the blue center stone. It was tiny, but bright and warm in his hand.

"Mom," he said, holding up the ring. There was a tiny image of his mother, sitting in a windowsill overlooking the city of Paris. Her beauty and grace were effortless with her long slender neck, beautiful almond shaped eyes and long blonde hair. Her hand danced over a glass goblet where a small fluid figure skater twirled across the liquid.

"Hey Timothee!" Theo yelled as he came through the forest.

Timothee looked back towards his friend, "Bonjour."

"We didn't want to leave you out here by yourself," Abigail said.

"Thanks," Timothee replied. He looked back at the ring and the image was gone but even then he couldn't help but smile as he closed his hand around the rings.

Archie was the last in line, "They completely obliterated the stump," He said and tossed a woodchip to Timothee.

The beige color woodchip still smelled of sap mixed with the charred smell of smoke.

"You should have seen it," Theo said, "The stump shattered into pieces. She casted… what was it again?"

"Confringes," Abigail answered, "It's Latin for shatter."

Archie pointed to her, "I told you it would pay off."

"It sounds like a Reducto curse," Timothee said.

Abigail held the skeleton key up and examined it lovingly, "I'll have to try that next."

"Shhh! Everyone down!" Archie ordered. He ducked down and ran towards the tall reeds and waved the others to follow.

"Aw, I got mud on my shoes," Abigail said.

"Shhhhh!" Archie shushed.

"You don't know what my mom is going to do," Abigail retorted.

Archie pointed across the lake, "Look!"

"Wait," Theo said squinting his eyes, trying to see in the dark, "Is that?"

"Vance Marlett," Archie finished.

"The rocket," Abigail added, "What is he doing out here?"

Across the lake the tall red haired teen was unmistakable even from the other side of the pond in the diming light. He was truly large, even compared to a grown adult but for some reason, he didn't walk with the normal confidence that he possessed. He looked nervous, almost scared with his head darting this way and that. He had a blue and gold gym bag slung under his shoulder, and it looked to be full. They watched as he made his way towards the two large iron water treatment pipes on the other side of the lake and disappeared inside.

"The water treatment plant, it all makes sense" Theo said, "He's going to poison the town again!"

"He did have today highlighted in his planner," Timothee noted.

"So what do we do?" Theo asked the others.

"What do you mean?" Archie said.

Theo turned back to the others, "I mean, are we just going to let him poison the town or are we going to go in there after him. Let's find out what he is up to. Figure out why Thorne and Thistle were after Timothee and put a stop to this whole thing."

"What if the troblins are in there? And this time they do get Timothee? What then Theo?" Archie said nervously.

"This time we are prepared," Theo said holding up his pen, "This time we leveled the playing field."

Archie shook his head, "You just got those cores."

Abigail chimed in, "Did you see what we did to that stump?"

Archie's face turned red as he looked at Abigail in disbelief, "Oh don't tell me that you are with junior Auror over here? Stumps don't hit back and what about your curfew? It's pretty much night!"

"I think it's time for payback," Abigail said.

"Yeah, let's go," Theo followed.

Theo disappeared through the reeds with Abigail right behind him.

Archie cupped his hands around his mouth and whispered, "Theo! Abigail! You guys can't be serious!"

Archie shook his head, "They think they can take on the world."

"You know we can't let them go alone," Timothee said.

Archie sighed, "I know…" and together they made their way around the pond.

Chapter 15

The Rocket

"I can't see a thing!" Theo whispered.

"What am I stepping in!" Abigail hushed.

"AHHHHHH!" Theo yelled, "He's got me!"

"That's me!" Abigail shushed, "Stop being such a baby!"

"You're a baby," Theo fired back.

"Real mature Theo, real mature."

"You know, maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

"You think!" Abigail hissed. Her foot caught a bolt head and she lost her footing. When she grabbed for the curved pipe wall, there was a loud, "Splat!"

"Aw, what did I just put my hand in?" She said in disgust.

"What is that smell!" Theo whined as he plugged his nose.

"Psst!"

Theo and Abigail both screamed and grabbed for each other.

"Shhhh! It's just me." Archie shushed, "He has probably heard you guys already. Sound travels in tunnels and caves. It's basic acoustics."

"Sorry were not all brains Archie," Theo chided, "But if you didn't notice, we can't see a thing!"

Timothee held up his rings and shook them in the air as he called out, "Lumos, Lumos, Lumos, Lumos, Lumos!"

"What are you doing?" Abigail asked.

"It's a light spell," Timothee whispered.

"Lumos!" Said Abigail and a blinding light exploded from the end of her key.

Theo placed a hand across his face, "My eyes!"

"Thanks," Timothee said, he looked at the two rings in his hand and shook his head.

Archie placed a hand on Timothee's shoulder, "Don't sweat it."

Timothee nodded.

The water treatment tunnel was large at six feet in diameter and there was plenty of headroom to stand. The sulfurous smell of bog, swamp and plant rot saturated the air. It was musty and surprisingly humid inside the tunnel. Thick green slimy algae lined the floor and walls, and a trickle of water dribbled down the base of the pipe. The combination of curved flooring and algae made each step a treacherous game of "don't fall" for the young wizards.

"Watch your step Timothee. We don't want you to fall like in Salem," Theo laughed, nearly taking a spill himself.

"Ha. Ha." Timothee replied.

Abigail glanced at her slime covered hand and began to wipe it off on her pants, "Is this where our drinking water comes from?"

Archie walked like a tight rope walker with his arms stretched out, "Not exactly."

"Then what are these pipes for?" Abigail asked.

"Back logged waste disposal," Archie said.

Abigail looked at her hand, mortified, before turning back to Archie, "Wait, waste disposal?"

Archie nodded his head.

"Yuck!" Abigail cried, utterly horrified, "How far do we have to go?"

Archie held a finger to his lips for silence, "If you would have waited for me to finish before running off, I could have told you that my father helped build this place. I could have asked him all sorts of questions, like a better way to access these tunnels."

"Yeah, but what about Vance?" Theo asked, "Who knows when we would've gotten this opportunity again?"

"I know exactly when we would've gotten this opportunity again because we have his planner! We know to the end of the year when he would be back! You guys rushed into this thing and didn't think, we aren't prepared, we don't know where we are going, and for all we know we could be walking into a trap." Archie scolded.

"I get it. My bad Arch," Theo apologized, "So what now?"

Archie looked around, "I say we scout it out, see what Vance is up to and then bug out. Come back when we actually have a plan."

Abigail held her key up higher, "Hey guys I think I see something up ahead. It looks like a stairwell."

The tunnel opened up into a room with grated metal platforms on either side. One by one they climbed onto the platform and made their way up a set of stairs and through a hallway. At the end of the hall was an open warehouse filled with large vats, tanks and water pumps. The lights were off and the soft humming of machines reverberated through the building.

Archie leaned in, "Hey I see a light over on the far side."

Abigail held a hand over her key to block out the light, "How do I turn this thing off?"

"Nox," Timothee whispsered.

"Nox," Abigail casted but the light continued to glow.

"Focus," Theo encouraged.

Abigail took a deep breath and focused on the key. Giving it a small flick, she whispered "Nox" and the light vanished.

The young teenagers made their way closer to the source of the glow until it was just on the other side of a large blue pump with large white piping coming out on either side. The pipes were as wide as a door and there were six of them stacked on each other. Rays of light cut through the cracks leaving very little room to see what was on the other side.

Archie walked up to a seam between two of the pipes and peered in.

"What do you see?" Theo asked.

"It's the Rocket alright," Archie answered.

Abigail leaned in to get a look, "What is he doing?"

"He's chained up," Archie said.

"Chained up?" Timothee repeated.

Archie looked back to the others, "Yes, he is chained up to a large metal pipe,"

Archie began to look further down the aisle, "I can't see much, we should get a better look,"

They walked between two large rows of pipes until three of the pipes went into the ground and three pipes ran up towards the ceiling leaving a small triangular space. Squeezing through the gap they found themselves on the same aisle as Vance.

Timothee saw what Archie said was true. Vance had a large metal collar around his neck with a thick metal chain that ran around a wide metal pipe. The pipe that he was chained to poured water into a large troth that went out of the building. He had a blue tattered blanket and a plate of food.

"Did Thistle and Thorne do this?" Timothee asked.

"I don't know," Archie answered, "Let's get a closer look."

Theo grabbed Archie by the arm, "Wait."

"What is it," Archie asked.

"Something doesn't feel right."

"Do you think it's a trap?"

"I don't know but this just doesn't make sense. If he is our guy, shouldn't he be pouring potion into the water supply or something, not just sitting around?"

"Well, we won't know until we check it out," Archie said.

Abigail leaned over to Timothee, "Look who is Junior Auror now."

Archie turned to take a step forward, but in the darkness he did not see the pail in front of him and knocked it over. The loud metal hitting the cement floor clattered as it skidded away and hit a pipe making another hollow "clong!"

"Who's there?" Vance called out.

It was the first time Timothee had actually heard him speak. His voice was in a higher registry than he expected and it was unmistakable, "He was… scared?"

"Who's there?" He said again.

"What do we do?" Theo whispered.

"I don't know?" Archie replied.

"What if he needs help?" Abigail asked, "I mean look at him, all chained up, who would do that to a kid?"

"It might be a trap," Theo whispered.

"Okay, then you guys stay here. I'm going forward," Abigail persisted.

The others followed hesitantly as Abigail made her way towards Vance.

"Uh, hi," Abigail started as she walked into the light.

"Abigail?" Vance said.

"You know who I am?" Abigail asked.

"We go to the same school," Vance answered, "Wait, what are you doing here?"

"It's a long story," Abigail said.

Theo, Archie and Timothee entered the light as well.

Vance shook his head in disbelief, the look of worry growing with every second, "What are all you guys doing here?"

"We kind of followed you," Archie admitted.

"You guys need to go," Vance demanded, adjusting the metal collar around his neck "It's not safe here."

"Who chained you up?" Theo asked.

Vance looked up at the skylight over head, "That's not important, what is important is that you guys need to go. I don't have time to explain."

"We are here to help," Abigail insisted, "We can help get that collar off of you."

"No. I am okay. Please, just go," Vance pleaded. His breathing became labored as he continued to fumble with the collar around his neck. He leaned over and grabbed some of the flowing water from the pipe and splashed it on his face.

"Look," Vance started, but suddenly his chest fired forward and he pointed towards the skylight overhead. He rolled around, the chain rattling with each move.

Abigail ran to Vance and knelt down by his side, "What's wrong?"

Vance kicked away the blanket he was sitting on, revealing inch deep claw marks in the hard concrete. It reminded Theo of bear claw marks on a tree but only this was concrete… Concrete!

Timothee looked up and watched as the clouds began to part revealing a beautiful pale full moon.

"Uh oh," Timothee thought as everything suddenly all began to make sense in an overwhelming wave. He now knew the reason why Vance had highlighted a particular day of the month and the fact that he was so large and incredibly strong. Even the story of his absence from the football game all made sense. He wasn't highlighting a particular day of the month. He was highlighting a particular night!

"What is it?" Archie asked.

"We need to go!" Timothee shouted, "Vance wasn't highlighting particular days Arch. He was highlighting the full moon!"

"He's a…" Archie said.

Abigail screamed as she fell away from Vance who continued to writhe on the floor. Looking up, his eyes had turned large and yellow and as the moonlight came pouring in through the skylight above, the round pupil shape turned into black slits. The lower part of his face began to protrude forward while his ears became pointed and long. Grey hair grew all over his face and body except for a garnet red tuft that ran from the top of his head and down his back. His teeth grew into menacing fangs and the bones in his forearms grew longer and longer. His fingers elongated and his nails turned into long hooked claws. There were jarring cracking sounds of bones shifting, dislocating and realigning for his new form. Finally Vance fell still, a deep rattling snore emanated as his powerful frame heaved with every breath.

"Werewolf," Archie finished.

The werewolf's ears perked up at Archie's word and its' enormous body slowly shifted. Vance was known for his impressive size but now in this new form he was truly terrifying. The werewolf growl didn't sound like something that would come from a dog but something bigger like a lion or a tiger. It was primal, feral, unfiltered by breeding, it was wild.

Looking up to the skylight, the werewolf stood on its hind legs and howled to the moon.

Timothee felt the hairs on the back of his head stand on end and goose bumps run up and down his arms. He took a slow step back with the others, trying not to draw attention to themselves.

After greeting the moon, the werewolf's large yellow eyes fixed on the four teenagers.

"Vance, are you in there?" Abigail whispered.

In less time than it would take to blink an eye, the werewolf had lunged at them pulling the chain taut. Archie pulled Abigail back as a long outstretched claw slashed towards them. They landed on their back with a grunt.

Abigail looked down at the bits of white cotton that poked out from four long claw marks across the chest of her jacket, "Thanks"

"Don't mention it," Archie groaned.

The werewolf went wild as it fought the chain and collar on its neck with a ferocious hatred, pacing from side to side, lunging and more pacing. Its long white fangs turned on the chain and it whipped its' head from side to side with savage fury.

"Do you think it will hold?" Theo asked.

"I don't think we should stick around to find out," Timothee suggested, grabbing the others and shepherding them farther away.

They began to turn for the way they had come when an all too familiar voice said, "Look what we have hear Thistle."

"Quite the predicament indeed Thorne."

Timothee turned and saw the two troblins standing on a water pipe just out of reach of the werewolf as it thrashed wildly below them. They were dressed in the same garb as their first encounter only this time, Thorne was missing half of the ear on the left side of his head.

"What happened to your ear?" Timothee asked.

"Punishment," Throne replied coldly, "Master did not like our goblin game that lost us the child."

"Did not like the game at all," said Thistle, "Not one bit."

Thorne pointed to his half ear, "She wanted to make sure we would never play it again by making sure we were different."

Theo pulled out his pen and pointed it at the troblins, "If you're here for Timothee, you have another thing coming!"

Thistle grinned, "The little wizard wants to duel again Thorne."

Thorne pulled out his wand, "A duel would be most interesting Thistle."

Abigail pulled out her key, "Let's see what you got!"

Thorne laughed, "Our master does not know we are here foolish children. We came here on our own accord."

"Then what do you want?" Timothee asked.

Thorne pointed to his half ear, "Paypack!"

Thistle pointed his pine wand to the chain that held the werewolf and casted, "Reducto!"

There was a loud "Ching!" as a chain link disintegrated, freeing the enraged creature. It turned to the troblins and swiped at them but they vanished with a loud "pop!"

Snarling and foaming from the mouth, the werewolf's large yellow eyes fixed on the four teenagers before it went on all fours with the hair on its' back standing on end. The powerful muscle's in its forearms tensed and flexed as it lowered itself into a pouncing stance.

For every step the teens retreated backwards the snarling werewolf took one step forward.

Timothee whispered from the corner of his mouth, "Run!"

The werewolf charged them. Snarling, growling and gnashing its teeth that made an audible chomping sound.

Archie pointed to the segment of divided piping which they had crawled through, "It's on the right!"

"Hurry!" Theo yelled as he watched Archie crawl through the piping first.

Timothee turned around to see the werewolf only feet away.

"Duck!" Abigail shouted.

Timothee hit the cold hard pavement as a large purple ethereal fist flew inches over his head. There was an audible, "thoom!" as the werewolf and fist collided. The werewolf, which had lowered its massive grey shoulder into the fist, was driven back with its claws buried deep into the concrete. The fist exploded into a purple cloud and the pipes on either side of the aisle bowed outward and cracked, releasing hot steam like a screaming locomotive.

The werewolf shook its' massive head and focused its' eyes on Abigail.

"That's the best I got, we need to move!" Abigail confessed.

Timothee followed Theo through the piping and Abigail dove through as a large grey arm rifled in after her, its' massive paw swinging this way and that. The arm retreated and was replaced by the head of the werewolf which strained and struggled to push its' way through.

Abigail rolled over on the floor, "He can't get through."

Theo grabbed Abigail by the shoulder and helped her to her feet, "We need to go before he does!"

They ran down the aisle towards the door at the end. Timothee turned around to see the werewolf had disappeared.

They shuffled down the stairs two at a time, nearly falling over each other as they landed on the metal grated platform at the bottom. Jumping down into the pipe, they didn't have time to note the overwhelming sulfurous smell as their feet splashed the curved floor.

"Is he behind us? IS HE BEHIND US?!" Archie screamed, as he fought to keep balance while navigating through the pitch black.

"I don't see him!" Timothee answered.

"I don't see anything!" Theo cried out.

Abigail pulled out her skeleton key and began waving it frantically, "What was that spell Timothee?"

"Lumos!" He answered back.

"Lumos!" She casted but the key remained dark, "Oh, come on!"

"Focus!" Archie cried.

A deafening howl reverberated through the tall waste pipe, forcing them to cover their ears.

Abigail flicked her key in the air, "Lumos!" but the key remained dark.

"You need to focus!" Theo yelled.

"That's kind of hard right now!" Abigail screamed back.

Timothee looked back the way they come but could not see a thing in the dark.

Theo held his pen over his head and took three quick breathes before shouting, "Lumos!"

The large pipe was filled with brilliant white light.

"Do you see it? Do you see the werewolf?" Archie screamed, as his eyes tried to adjust to the light.

"I don't see anything!" Abigail said, rubbing her eyes and blinking them repeatedly.

"Come on, this way!" Timothee urged as he started down the pipes. He kept a palm on the wall even though the thick brown and green sludge began to coat his hand.

"I think I see the opening!" Archie said, pointing his own sludge covered hand down the pipe way.

They looked as if they were running on ice as their feet slipped this way and that. Archie fell to one knee and was helped up by Abigail who also fell.

There was a small opening that grew bigger as they approached. The light of the full moon had lit up the water and surrounding forest in a pallid blue. A cold breeze was blowing in and it smelled of fresh air and not of the sour rotten egg odor that had plagued the pipes.

Only feet away, Timothee could taste the freedom when a large black figure blocked out the moonlit exit. The creature's eye shine magnified by the light coming from Theo's pen. It was the werewolf and it let out another bone chilling howl from the entrance.

Timothee spread out his arms and dug a heal into the ground in an attempt to slow the others. They fell backwards and landed in the bottom of the pipe in a loud splash.

Archie pointed a trembling finger, his glasses askew on his face, and stuttered, "It must have taken the other pipe to cut us off."

"What do we do now?" Abigail yelled.

Theo pointed his pen at the werewolf but the beast was not discouraged as it slowly crawled into the pipe towards them. The hairs on the back of its neck were raised. Its' long white fangs exposed as globs of drool ran from its' mouth.

Timothee felt the others trembling behind him as he reached a sludge covered hand into his shirt and grabbed his two rings. The pensive memory of his two parents and him as an infant suddenly flashed before him as he felt the warm breath of the werewolf against his face.

His cold slimy hand trembled as he took one last shallow breath and whispered the only spell he could think of, "_Expecto Patronum_."

There was a brilliant blue flash in the pipe. Timothee opened his eyes and watched as the startled werewolf rolled backwards and fell out of the opening. A large ghostly unicorn reared up on its' hind legs and kicked its' hoofs.

The werewolf pinned its' ears back and growled with its large yellow eyes reflecting blue. The patronus charged and the werewolf took flight, leaving the four teenagers in the cylinder once again.

It fell quiet before Abigail asked, "What was that?"

"A Patronus!" Archie answered in awe, "Was that you Theo?"

"No. Or at least I don't think it was," He answered.

"Abigail?" Archie said.

She shook her head, "I don't even know what that was."

"It was me," Timothee confessed.

"What!" Archie yelled, "You casted a Patronus from your rings?"

"I didn't know what else to do," Timothee said.

"That was magnificent!" Archie yelled, "I can't believe it worked."

"I didn't think it would either," Timothee replied, "But somehow it just felt like the right thing to do."

They got to their feet, covered in green and brown smelly sludge and climbed out of the pipe. A light winter snow had covered the landscape in a white blanket of powder.

"How did you do it?" Archie asked.

Timothee looked down at the dirty rings in his hand, "I thought of my mom and dad and it just sort of happened."

Their conversation was interrupted by another howl in the dark night. It was farther away, but in the direction of Witchaven.

Abigail illuminated her skeleton key, knelt down and studied a paw print the size of a text book, "We need to go after him."

Theo's head shot in her direction, "What are you nuts? You want us to go after a werewolf?"

"It's our fault he escaped, we can't let him hurt anyone," Abigail said.

"Or worst, bite someone else," Archie added.

"What happens if he bites someone else?" Theo asked.

Archie fixed his glasses, "Well then the next full moon we will have more than one werewolf to worry about."

"Oh that's just great," Theo yelled, looking up at the full moon above.

"Look Theo," Abigail started but he cut her off.

"No, you look. First off, that werewolf escaping isn't our fault. It's the fault of those two pesky troblins. And second off, how are we going to stop a werewolf once we find it? I don't know about you guys but I feel like we just survived by the skin of our teeth. Not to mention we all smell like…"

"No you look!" Abigail fired back, "What's the point of being able to do magic if we don't actually use it to do some good when we have the opportunity? Huh? We have the smartest kid in school, two wizards and a witch. We can figure this out guys! I know you are scared. Heck I am scared, back there we could have been killed but if we don't do the right thing, then all this magic, all of it would be for nothing. I'll go it alone if I have to but together as a group we are unstoppable," Abigail extended her hand out, "Who's with me?"

Timothee stepped forward and placed a hand on top of Abigail's, "My father once told me that it is our responsibility to use our gifts for beautiful things, to help and to love. So if we let Vance go off, he could hurt someone else or hurt himself and that would go against everything my family stands for. You can count me in."

Archie nodded his head and sighed adding his hand to the pile, "The smartest kid comment was a nice touch."

Abigail looked to Theo, "We need you."

Theo pulled his pen out and gave it a once over before reluctantly finishing the pile with his hand on top of all the others, "I guess it is time to see what this thing really can do."

Chapter 16

Tapetum Lucidum

Abigail's key lit the trail of paw prints that tracked across a white dusted athletic field, "He went straight back to our school."

"There shouldn't be too many people at school at this hour," Archie said, looking at the partially lit three story building across the field, "Maybe the basketball team? A few custodians? Detention should already be over."

They started walking across the field, their feet crunching on the freshly frozen snow which had left a frost on the blades of grass.

Theo saw a gust of wind create a white snowy funnel that spun and faded, spun and faded over again. He asked, "So what's the plan?"

Archie thought aloud, "We need to find a way to contain the werewolf so it can't harm anyone else or worst, turn them."

"Like a cage," Timothee suggested.

Archie nodded, "That would be ideal but I don't know where we would find a cage big enough to hold a werewolf or how we could get him in there."

"Maybe we can lure him in with food?" Abigail suggested.

Archie stopped in his tracks, "Food…food…food…"

"What is it?" Timothee asked.

"That's it!" Archie said.

"That's what?" Abigail asked.

"We could lock him in the freezer at school!" Archie explained.

"Freezer?" Theo asked, "Why a freezer?"

"It's perfect. Our school should have a large industrial freezer somewhere in the back of the cafeteria. Have you ever seen one before?" Archie asked.

Theo shook his head, "no."

Archie began to walk again, "Well they are large metal boxes. They have thick walls for insulation and the doors tend to be pretty hardy. Not to mention a heavy duty latch that should hold a werewolf."

"That's all good and fine, but how do we lure a werewolf into a freezer?" Theo asked.

"We could try food like Abigail suggested. Get his attention and have him chase us into the kitchen. Hide once we get there and hope the pile of food lures the werewolf in. Once inside, we can close the door behind him," Archie explained.

Abigail shook her head, "Wait, you want the werewolf to chase us? Did you see how fast he was?"

"Good point," Archie noted, "What about running a relay?"

"Like a race?" Abigail said.

"Exactly," Archie said, "I watched the Olympics this summer and I noticed that the 400m dash took about fifty seconds while the 4x100m relay only took forty seconds. The same distance only they were able to shave off ten seconds by dividing the distance between four runners. We could do the same thing."

"How do we get the werewolf to stop following one of us and start chasing another?" Abigail wondered.

"I don't know," Archie said, "Maybe we could use noise?"

"Periculum?" Timothee suggested.

"What is that?" Abigail asked.

"Cast it," Timothee said, waving his hand in the air.

Abigail pointed her key across the field and casted, "Periculum!"

A purple ball of light fired from her wand and burst into a star of sparks that lit up the dark frosted field before vanishing into the night.

"Periculum!" Theo casted and this time red sparks shot across the field.

Timothee clutched the rings in his hand before outstretching his arm and casting, "Periculum!"

A blue ball of light shot forward and burst into a gold ball of sparks that disappeared.

"Bravo," Abigail said with applause.

Theo patted Timothee on the back, "You're getting it."

Timothee grinned, "I guess I am."

Archie raised a hand, "I hate to ruin a good moment, but I can't cast sparks. What am I going to do?"

"What if you were the first leg of the relay?" Abigail suggested.

"That could work," Archie said, "Risky and dangerous but it could definitely work."

They were fifty feet away from school and already they saw that a pair of swinging doors had been pushed in with the grey metal bent this way and that.

Theo rubbed some grit from his pen, "Hey Timothee, do you know any other spells we can use?"

Timothee looked at his rings, "Well, there is Expelliarmus but that is a disarming charm."

Theo chuffed, "I doubt a werewolf would use a wand."

"True," Timothee said, "It's been so long since I've studied spells. Um, well there is Protego which is a shield charm and Locomotor Mortis which is a leg locking curse."

Theo shook his head, "Protego. Locomotive Mortis. Got it!"

"Locomotor Mortis," Timothee corrected.

"Oh!" Theo replied, "Loco-MOTOR Mortis."

Timothee gave a thumbs up, "Wi."

Archie walked to the grey metal doors and ran his fingers along four metal claw marks that ran from top to bottom. The metal had been shredded like wet paper and the jarring metal bent in all different directions. The upper hinge was broken and the door sagged to one side. Light and warm air poured out from within the building.

Archie turned to the others and gulped, "Here we go."

Archie's wet shoes squeaked as he walked through the empty halls of Witchaven High School. It was strange being in school after hours. The building was empty, almost haunting in the still eeriness.

Archie's glasses fogged from the warm air and he pulled them from his face to wipe them with his damp shirt.

The others had taken their positions around the school and it was Archie's job to lead the werewolf to Abigail who would be waiting in the school foyer. Next would be Theo in the south wing of the school and last would be Timothee at the bottom of the stairwell that lead to the cafeteria.

Archie's voice cracked as he called out, "Hello?"

His eyes darted from side to side for any signs of movement while he followed a set of mud paw prints fearing what lay at their end.

Archie passed a white poster board with a drawn orange basketball and red glitter lettering that read, "Griffins vs. Stags at Dansville High."

"Well at least we don't have to worry about the basketball team," Archie thought.

He made his way into the auditorium, all the while on high alert. Rows of plush empty folded olive green theatre chairs lined both sides of a red carpeted walkway where the mud prints were getting fainter and harder to follow.

Archie turned to see Abigail waiting for him at the entrance of the Auditorium. She gave a quick and nervous wave.

"Don't worry," She encouraged, "I'm right here waiting!"

Archie's blood froze as a deep howl emanated from a stairwell located off to the side of the theatre. Archie swallowed hard and thought "Aw man, he is in the school storage, anywhere but there."

Witchaven High school had a basement below the auditorium that was rumored to be haunted. It was originally a fallout shelter turned storage room and filled with all sorts of odds and ends that had been accumulated over a decades' time. The theatre club met there regularly to build sets and costumes while others tended to avoid the estranged location. Pipes ran along the ceiling that creaked, hissed and moaned constantly.

Archie stood in a doorway at the top of the stairwell that led down to the storage room. It reminded him of the entrance to the basement to his house, an entrance that he did not like to go down when he was a kid. He knew it was childish to be fearful of a basement but something about it just made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"Hello?" He called, from the top of the stairs, this time a little louder. If he could get the beast to come to him, he wouldn't have to go down there but his greeting was met with silence.

"Here goes nothing," Archie thought, as he grabbed the cold metal railing and took his first step down the painted cement stairs. The robin's egg paint used on the stairs was chipped and cracked but an unmistakable set of claw marks could be traced all the way down.

"Don't get bit, don't get bit, don't get bit," Archie repeated to himself as his heart pounded in his chest, "Don't get bit? What am I thinking? Don't die! This werewolf could slash me to ribbons!"

The light overhead flickered, as another deep grumble came from the dark entrance at the base of the stairs. Archie felt his lower lip tremble and so he bit down on it hard in an attempt to stem his fears.

"Go first, they said," Archie thought, "Why would I agree to go first? I don't know magic."

Archie's feet were on the bottom landing when he looked through the dark entrance before him. The rapid beating of his heart would not calm. He felt a pain in his chest and wondered if he was having a heart attack.

The piles of junk that filled the storage area made it hard to see. Stacked chairs, student and teacher desks, and moveable chalkboards were only a few of the objects he could make out in the minimal light.

"Where is he?" Archie began when his body froze. His eyes locked on a large brown furry back standing ever so still amongst the piles of junk. The stairwell light had hit the fur just right otherwise he never would have seen it.

Archie turned his body sideways on the stairs, ready to take flight, "Pssst!" he called out but the large werewolf did not move.

"Pssst!" Archie whispered again.

Standing still in the dark, he looked for the slightest sign of movement but in the poor light he didn't know if the werewolf was moving or if his mind was making things happen that weren't there.

"I can't just stand here, I need to get his attention," Archie thought. His eyes searched around the entrance, trying to find an object he could throw. There was an old worn football just a few feet in the room, lying on a desk. Archie kept one hand securely gripped to the stairwell railing as he took his first steps into the dark storage room, his eyes never leaving the werewolf.

Stretching out, he found that the ball was still out of his reach by a good three feet.

"Just a little bit more," he thought as the tips of his fingers finally let go of the railing and took the few lone steps into the storage area. Grabbing the oblong brown leather ball, Archie leapt back to the stairs, lined up the shot, and fired the football in a clumsy spiral. The ball hit the werewolf in the back and Archie did not wait around for a reaction. He ran up the stairs two and three at a time, using the railing like a rope to pull himself up.

Archie heard the football as it bounced in the room and something heavy drop to the ground.

Reaching the top step, Archie spun around and saw that there was nothing behind him.

Standing still, breathing heavily, he saw a brown figure roll into the light at the base of the stairs. It was a large brown fury bird like head of a Griffin, the school's mascot.

Archie put a hand over his heart and let out a deep breath, shook his head and smiled, "You're going to give yourself a heart attack. You threw the ball at a costume."

"Arch!" Abigail whispered loudly from the entrance of the auditorium, "You okay? Theo wants to know."

Archie turned and gave a thumbs up before looking back down the stairs and felt his blood run cold. The color in his face vanished and his knees trembled.

The animalistic eye shine of two yellow orbs peered silently from the darkness below. They were fixated on him like a predator.

The hairs on Archie's arms stood on end and sweat began to trickle down his temple. Archie knew the moment he turned to run that the werewolf would be on him and it was just a matter of when.

Archie began to count in his head, "3… 2… 1… Go!"

He spun away from the stairs and bolted across the auditorium towards the rows of chairs. A deafening howl bellowed from the basement below him and it wasn't long before the snarling grew louder. Turning his head for a second, he saw a flash of grey burst through the door frame and charge towards him.

"Merlin's beard! The werewolf was faster than I could have ever imagined!"

By the time He was half way to the foyer, Archie knew that he would never make it to the top.

Abigail emerged through the doors with her key drawn forward and yelled, "Move Arch!"

Archie dove into an aisle as Abigail wound up and fired a purple ethereal wave at the werewolf. The werewolf saw the purple wave and dove into a row of chairs on the opposite side. The spell flew by the werewolf and exploded at the base of the sloped walkway. The werewolf reoriented itself and fixed its' large yellow eyes on Abigail. Baring its' long white fangs and letting out a deep growl, the werewolf tried to pounce on the frightened witch but was stopped.

Archie laying on his back in the opposite row, saw that the right leg of the werewolf was stuck in the gap between the back of the chair and its' folding seat. The werewolf turned on the chair and tore the fabric to shreds, sending bits of red cloth and white stuffing everywhere.

"Archie?" Abigail called.

"I'm okay! His foot is stuck in the seat," Archie called back while getting to his feet.

The werewolf's large yellow eyes fixed on Archie and the beast lunged a second time but once again the chair kept the creature at bay. The werewolf swung a massive clawed paw in the air that was just out of reach as Archie climbed over two rows and ran towards Abigail.

Filled with an uncontrolled rage, the werewolf howled into the air before unleashing a fury of blows on the olive metal theatre seat back, tearing it like tinfoil.

"Run!" Archie screamed, grabbing Abigail by the arm and dragging her out of the auditorium and into the foyer. Abigail was faster than Archie and was able to pull ahead of him.

They heard the werewolf as it burst out of the auditorium and into the foyer, where it slipped on the tiled ground. The large hooked claws made a harsh scratching sound as the beast fought to get traction. The creature slid across the foyer and crashed into a wooden bench which shattered the glass to a display case filled with trophies. The golden trophies scattered across the black tiled floor in every direction.

"So much for our plan," Abigail shouted as they rounded the corner where Theo waited at the end of the hall.

"Hey!" Theo shouted, "Is it coming?"

"Yes!" Archie shouted.

"The room with the red sign!" Theo ordered, "Go in there!"

"What about you?" Abigail asked.

"Don't worry!" Theo shouted, "Stick to the plan!"

Abigail and Archie ran into the dark classroom and started to shut the door behind them when a large grey wolf's head burst through the partially open door. They struggled to shut it as the werewolf fought to make its' way into the room. A large grey paw hooked its claws around the wooden door and splintered its' corners nearly catching Abigail's arm.

They heard Theo shouting from down the hall, "Hey! I'm right here you big dog! Come and get it!" But the werewolf fought to make its way into the classroom and was quickly gaining ground.

"Periculum!" Echoed through the halls and a bright red light glowed on the other side of the door. The werewolf's head pulled away and Abigail and Archie were able to slam the door closed.

The two teens sat in the dark classroom with their backs against the door, fighting to catch their breath. Archie leaned over and locked the door to the classroom before sitting back down, "I hope…" He took a few more breathes, "I hope he knows what he is doing."

The werewolf howled on the other side of the door and they could hear the feral rumbles of the beast grow fainter until they were sitting in silence.

"Get up," Abigail ordered, "We need to stick to the plan."

Timothee had prepared the freezer as best he could. He had opened a few packs of hot dogs, a pack of pepperonis and two packs of chicken patties and set them in a pile in the center of the freezer. They were frozen solid and did not give off a smell.

"This isn't going to work," He thought but figured it was better than nothing.

It had been a while since he last heard from Theo and he was starting to get nervous, "Did the plan work? Do they need my help? What if something went wrong?"

Timothee placed a hand on the railing to the stairs that led up to the hallway and decided to climb to the top of the stairs and see what was going on. He heard a series of howls earlier that had sent chills running down his spine. The werewolf was somewhere but he didn't know where.

"Man your post," He told himself and trotted back down the stairs.

There was a sudden rumbling from the far side of the cafeteria as the ceiling shook. The pounding flurry of footsteps got closer and closer.

Timothee wrapped the chain that held the rings around his hand and closed his fist around the gold bands. He kissed the back of his fist and took a combative stance, ready to do his part in the relay.

"Any moment," He thought to himself as the loud clatter of footsteps echoed from the top of the stairs. Holding up his fist, he pointed it towards the entrance.

Just then, Abigail and Archie came bursting through, nearly knocking each other over as they raced down the steps.

"Where is Theo?" Timothee asked.

"He's not here already?" Abigail shouted.

"No!" Timothee replied.

Archie ran a hand through his sweaty auburn hair and looked back to the top of the stairs,

"The werewolf was on him last. He should be down here already."

"What could have happened?" Timothee asked.

"I don't know!" Abigail said, "He should be here!"

"He might need us!" Timothee yelled in a panic and started up the stairs.

"No!" Archie called, "The plan was for him to meet us here. He told us to stick to the plan."

Timothee shook his head, "He's not here Archie! Something clearly isn't right."

Abigail began to pace from side to side, "Oh gosh. What if the werewolf got him?"

Archie glared, "Don't say that!"

"Well he's not here!" Abigail contested.

A guttural howl boomed from in the kitchen of the cafeteria.

All three turned and ran into the kitchen, looking around.

Timothee turned to the others, "Where did that come from?"

Abigail shook her head, "I don't know!"

"The tunnel!" Archie realized.

"What tunnel?" Timothee fired back.

"Remember the first day of school? Vandigraff said there is a tunnel that goes from the west wing basement into the back of the cafeteria," Archie explicated. He ran towards the back of the kitchen, passed the food stores and opened a door to a small narrow hallway.

"I bet you anything he is coming through here!" Archie said.

They waited quietly, as they heard the barking calls of the werewolf get louder. Suddenly Theo burst into view, running at a full sprint with the werewolf hot on his heels.

"Hurry!" Archie shouted.

"Move it!" Abigail cried.

Theo was in a dead sprint as he raced towards his friends. The werewolf, which was incredibly large, had a hard time moving through the narrow passageway. It struggled to catch Theo with each swipe of its' massive paw only missing the back of Theo's jacket by mere inches.

"He needs our help!" Timothee shouted and pointed his fist down the corridor, "Periculum!"

A blue ball of light fired from his chain bound fist and traveled down the corridor. Theo juked the ball of light and it hit the werewolf square in the face. Gold sparks crackled in a ball and the werewolf whipped its' head from side to side, leaving the red tuft of hair on the top of its' head with a smoldering wisp of smoke.

"Perriculum!" Abigail shouted as a purple orb of light traveled down the hall and caught the werewolf square in the chest.

Theo made it to the other end of the tunnel as the werewolf writhed from the burning purple sparks. He grabbed a stitch in his side and winced, "I've never run so fast in my life." Opening his eyes, he watched as the werewolf now ignored the incoming sparks and began charging towards them again, "We need to go!"

They entered the kitchen just as the werewolf burst through the door behind them and leaped between Timothee and the rest of the group.

"He's trapped!" Archie shouted in horror.

They stood with their improvised wands pointed at the werewolf who had its ears pinned back and was crouched low to the ground ready to strike. Its large fiery yellow eyes fixed on Timothee who stood by himself in front of the open freezer. The cold air flowed from the metal freezer and created cool fog along the floor. The air against Timothee's back sent goose bumps up and down his arms.

Abigail cocked her arm back ready to cast but Timothee waved her off.

"What is he doing?" She asked.

"I don't know," Archie admitted.

Timothee's brown and green eyes kept locked on the werewolf as the two matched movements in a game of life and death. When the werewolf placed a giant paw to the right, Timothee shifted left and when Timothee shifted right, the werewolf would take a step left.

"Hey Theo," Timothee called out, focused on the enormous grey beast.

"Yes," Theo called back.

"Remember what you did to the stump?" Timothee said.

"Of course," He answered, "The reducto?"

"No," Timothee quickly shot back momentarily breaking eye contact with the creature, "That was Abigail, what you first casted, the lifting spell."

"Oh, yeah. What about it?" Theo asked.

Timothee extended his hand out to the right. The silver chain glinting around his wrist, "When I say, can you lift me up?"

Theo pointed his pen, "I think."

"If you need a little help, try uttering Wingardium Leviosa. Got it?"

"Got it."

The werewolf roared and leapt with its razor sharp claws drawn.

Timothee pointed his fist at the werewolf and casted, "Locomotor Mortis!" The leaping werewolf fell short of Timothee with its' legs bound together. Sliding on the tiled floor, its' gnashing jaws and open claws were ready to tear him to shreds.

"Now!" Timothee screamed.

Theo swished his hand and flicked, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Timothee felt a sudden force send him crashing into the ceiling tile as the werewolf slid below and into the large metal freezer.

Abigail took her key and slashed it in the air. The large metal door to the freezer slammed shut with a loud "clack!" as the latch closed.

Feeling the spell release, Timothee fell to the hard ground and let out a loud grunt. He attempted to lift himself from the kitchen floor but his body collapsed.

The werewolf howled and screamed inside the freezer as it fought to escape, banging on the metal door and to everyone's surprise the creature soon fell quiet.

"I think he found the food," Archie said, running forward, "Timothee you okay?"

Timothee, who was covered in chunks of tiling and white dust, groaned as he rolled over onto his back. He looked at the rings still clutched in his palm and smiled, "I'm not dead."

"We did it!" Abigail yelled enthusiastically and a growl emanated from the freezer.

Timothee raised a dusty finger and pressed it to his lips, "Shhhhh…"

"Oh, sorry," Abiagil whispered, "We did it!"

Theo walked over and examined the large metal freezer, "You think it will hold Arch?"

"It should," Archie answered.

"What about tomorrow?"

"Let the lunch staff worry about that. As long as they don't open it before first light, it should be okay. In the mean time, we should get out of here."

Timothee attempted to stand but felt a sharp stinging pain in his ribs.

"Here, let me help," Archie said, wrapping an arm over his shoulder. Theo joined in and took the other arm. Together they lifted Timothee to his feet and began to walk together towards the broken door they had entered.

"A werewolf!" Archie said in disbelief, his breathe forming clouds in the frigid night air, "How did we not see that?"

Abigail grabbed two handfuls of snow and clumped them into a tight white snowball, "If I ever see those goblins again!" And she threw the snowball at the side of the school. The fast ball rocketed into the bricks and exploded in a burst of powder.

"You mean troblins," Archie corrected.

Abigail shook her head, "I mean dead meat because that's what they are going to be once I am through with them."

"We could have been bit," Timothee winced.

"We could have died!" Theo added.

"If all else failed we learned a lot tonight," Archie said, his feet crunching in the growing snow that was now up to their ankles.

"Like Vance being a werewolf," Abigail added.

"And that he isn't working for the troblins," Timothee noted.

"Exactly," Archie said, "We know that he isn't working for the troblins which means he wasn't poisoning the water."

Archie paused before saying, "Maybe the water isn't poisoned after all?"

"What about the glass of water and the radio?" Abigail asked.

"My guess is werewolf venom," Archie explained, "Vance clearly chained himself up. Set out a blanket, some food and had access to our water supply. Remember when he splashed his face before he turned? I bet you anything that when he changes, he drinks from it, which would explain the monthly spikes in magic in our water."

Theo turned to Archie, "Wait, you don't think we could all turn if he is drinking from our water?"

Archie shook his head, "No, I doubt it. Otherwise the entire town would have turned already. We've been drinking the water for months now. I remember reading that the only way to become a werewolf is a bite. Which is venom having direct contact with blood and with Vance's saliva diluted with the rest of the water, at most I'd imagine you would develop a hankering for meat."

"What if everyone in his family is werewolves?" Abigail wondered.

"Doubt it," Archie said.

Abigail began to make another snowball, "Oh yea? Why is that smarty pants?"

"Well, it's like I said before. The only way to become a werewolf is through a bite. You can't inherit the trait so unless someone in his family bit him, Vance is probably the only werewolf in his family."

Abigail tossed the snowball across the field, "But by that logic, that means that someone had to bite him to become a werewolf. That could mean that there is another werewolf running around tonight."

"True," Archie admitted, "Maybe we can ask him tomorrow? But one werewolf is enough for me tonight."

Theo adjusted his support of Timothee, "Well if it isn't the water, how did the troblins make everyone fall asleep?"

"I don't know," Archie admitted, "I'll have to go back to my books and try to find something, or maybe even look in the magical history book Timothee got from Bartholomew."

"So what do we do now?" Abigail asked.

"We prepare," Archie said, "We prepare for the troblins because I guarantee they will back."

"How are you so sure?" Theo asked.

Archie pointed to Timothee, "Because of him."

"Me?" said Timothee.

"You," Archie confirmed, "They want you for some reason and they haven't succeeded yet. That means they are going to be back and when they do we will be ready. I will work harder on my potions and you three will duel. Learn more spells and how to cast them. Defensive and offensive magic, it might be difficult at first but if Timothee can cast a Patronus, I'm confident you guys can cast anything."

"I almost forgot." Abigail said, "That was amazing."

Archie looked over, "Did you know your Patronus was a unicorn?"

"I had no idea," Timothee admitted, "I've never casted one before."

"We are definitely going to work on that," Archie said, "And for you two as well. It's not easy but definitely handy in a pinch against dementors."

"What's a dementor?" Abigail asked.

"A whole different nightmare I don't think we should visit tonight," Archie shuttered.

"I wish we could have Vance on our side. It would be kind of nice to have a werewolf to help us when those troblins show up," Abigail said.

"That is not actually a half bad idea. Better yet, it might be possible," Archie thought.

"How so?" She asked.

"We could make Wolfsbane Potion."

"What does that do?" Theo questioned.

"It should allow Vance to maintain his mental faculties while in werewolf form. The only problem is that it is really hard to make," Archie explained.

"How hard?" Abigail wondered.

"Like master potion brewer hard. The main ingredient is Aconite, you know monkshood, which is very poisonous. If I got the potion wrong, I could end up killing him."

Timothee secured a hand on his side, "Well maybe you won't have to brew it yourself if Kevin can get it for us. He did get us the Wizergen."

Archie nodded, "It would never hurt to ask but I doubt it will be cheap."

They made their way onto the main road before Abigail pointed over her shoulder, "Well, we are this way."

"See you guys tomorrow!" Archie said, turning away.

"If we don't have a snow day," Theo yelled back.

Theo and Timothee continued to head home when they heard a subtle bang in the distance, turning their heads they saw a ball of purple sparks in the sky, followed by the distant echoes of laughter.

"Should we?" Theo asked.

"Definitely," Timothee replied.

Theo held up his pen while Timothee did the same with his rings and in unison shouted, "Periculum!"

Two orbs of light flew into the sky and burst into bright spheres of gold and red. The two teens laughed as the glowing light in the falling snow lit up their faces.

Theo looked at his pen, "You know, I can get used to this thing."

"Me too," Timothee agreed.

Chapter 17

What You Truly Love

Timothee opened the front door and was greeted by a blast of warm air. It felt so good, especially for the fact that he was flooded with the aroma of meatloaf and mashed potatoes.

Timothee's stomach grumbled at the smell as he thought, "It feels good to be home."

Mara walked into the living room drying her hands on her apron. She had a smudge of flour on her chin and rosiness in her caramel colored cheeks, "Hey bud, you're late today."

"Sorry," Timothee said, "I lost track of time. We decided to play in the snow. I've never seen so snow much fall before."

"It's neat isn't it? Maybe you guys will get a snow day" Mara suggested. Suddenly her face clenched tight as her eyes closed and a hand rifled over her nose and mouth. She shook her head and leaned away, "Oh my, what is that smell?"

Timothee took a quick whiff and knew instantly that it was the sludge from the water treatment plant. It was potent and sulfurous but he must have grown accustom to it after being covered in waste for so long.

"We were playing by a pond and I fell in," Timothee said.

"Well go upstairs and take a bath, dinner will be ready in twenty minutes," Mara ordered.

"Right away," Timothee agreed and started up the stairs. He stopped at the bottom landing and thought to himself, "Home… this is my home…"

"Be sure to throw those clothes in the hamper so I can wash them tonight!"

"Wi!" Timothee said and was up the stairs.

Opening the door and stripping down, Timothee balled up his dirty jacket, shirt and pants and placed them into his hamper.

Ursa emerged from the pillows on the bed and watched Timothee as he moved around his room.

"Hi Ursa!" Timothee greeted, placing a kiss on the top of the bear's head.

Ursa waved a rounded stuffed arm over his plush snout.

"I know," Timothee said, "It's sewer sludge."

Ursa pointed towards Timothee's ribs, where a large purple and blue bruise was beginning to form about the size of a Frisbee.

Timothee touched the contusion and winced, "It's pretty bad but can I tell you something?"

Ursa nodded.

Timothee leaned in and whispered, "There is a werewolf in Witchaven."

Ursa's eyes grew wide as he ran to the bedroom window and looked outside.

"Don't worry Ursa. We wrangled it. Pierre, Marie and Camille would never believe it. An actual werewolf here in Witchaven!" He opened a drawer and looked for a fresh set of pajamas to wear, "And not only was it here but we found a way to lock it up. Serious house points if I was back at Pursang. Old Lillyhammer would have been proud."

Ursa's eyes seemed to ask, "How?"

Timothee knelt down to the side of the bed, wincing as he moved. Holding up the gold wedding bands he let Ursa get a good look at them, "Now can you keep a real secret?"

Ursa crossed his heart.

Timothee closed his eyes and whispered, "Lumos."

The two rings hummed before a white light burst from their centers. Ursa put a hand over his beaded black eyes and fell backwards on the bed. Timothee squinted as he looked at the brilliant glow.

There was a sudden shudder from downstairs followed by the muffled greeting, "Honey, I'm home!"

"You sound like just like a muggle," Mara greeted.

"I'm getting better every day my love," Samuel replied.

Timothee palmed the rings. The flesh of his hand glowed red while the bones in his hands were still black. The red lines of veins and arteries looked like tree roots in his illuminated hand as blood pumped through them.

"Nox," Timothee whispered and the x-ray view of his hand vanished.

Ursa's head went back and forward from Timothee's hand to his eyes.

"I know right," Timothee whispered, raising his finger to his lips, "shhhhhh."

Timothee began to sniff his finger before turning his face in repulsion, "Ugh, I really do need to shower."

After a quick wash and a good scrub, Timothee was drying out his blonde hair and making his way down the steps to the dinner table. He was wearing his pajamas which hid his bruise but could not hide the wince he made with each step down the stairs.

"There he is!" Samuel greeted happily from the head of the dining table. He was wearing his black teaching robes and had placed his suitcase in the corner of the room, "How was school today?"

"Tre bien," Timothee replied, taking a seat. His food was already set before him and like most teenagers, he had a veracious apatite. The dark rich succulent ground beef of the meatloaf was topped with a thick red tomato sauce. Next to the meat was a large mound of thick chunky mashed potatoes with a nice round reservoir of brown gravy pooled in the middle. It looked like a mini volcano and Timothee was careful not to breech the steaming caldera of gravy. To round out this savory meal was a healthy portion of steamed green beans that would partner well with the gravy.

"This meal is absolutely astonishing. I don't know if my dinner tomorrow will match it," Samuel admired.

"I'm sure you and your wand will find a way," Mara smiled as she spooned up some potatoes.

"So, how are Abigail, Archie, and Theo?" Mara asked.

Timothee chewed a large piece of meatloaf, "Well, Abigail officially made the varsity baseball team. She is the first girl in Witchaven High to ever do that and Archie… well he is always working on a project for school. Theo, is just Theo."

"Sounds like teenagers to me," Samuel said, "You know you should have them over again. You guys seemed to have such a blast after that sleepover last month."

"They didn't fall asleep until three in the morning," Mara noted, "And what about classes? Any tests coming up?"

"finals in two weeks," Timothee answered, "I have As in French, PE and Art, two Bs in math and science and two Cs in English and History."

"I thought you were going to turn one of those Cs into a B?" Mara asked.

"I can turn the English grade into a B if I get an A on my final paper. As for History, it is hopeless. After the first day of class Mr. Applegate has never liked me."

"Well after you finish your paper, I can check it for you," Mara offered.

Samuel held up his fork with a green bean on the end, "And I can give Mr. Applegate a magical quill that gives you all As."

Mara gave Samuel a look.

"Kidding," Samuel said, "You know there is a magical historian that created quite the book. It has all my students in a whirl. They say you actually get to 'live' history. Maybe we ought to slip one of those in old Applegate's desk."

"Now don't start trouble," Mara scolded, "The last thing we need is the ministry snooping around here."  
"Aw, it wouldn't be so bad," Samuel said, "They would just send a few of the wizards from the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. I've taught half of them at Salem."

Mara shook her head, "Either way, Timothee you have been doing an excellent job living as a muggle. Have you decided what you wanted to do for Christmas?"

Timothee took a sip from his water, "You know I haven't given it much thought."

"Well you are more than welcome to stay here if you would like. Or you could head back to France for your break as well. I know your grandmother must be dying to see how big you've gotten."

"Grandma," Timothee thought, "I do miss her."

Timothee looked to Mara, "What if she came here to visit?"

Mara smiled, "I don't see why that would be a problem."

Samuel wiped his mouth, "Well that is an excellent idea. If you pen her a letter I can have one of the owls at Salem send it out for you."

Timothee nodded, "Merci."

Samuel began to look around the table.

"What do you need love?" Mara asked.

"Salt," Samuel answered.

"I knew you would. I moved it. Now remember, not too much," Mara said pulling out the salt shaker from behind the center display piece on the table, "Here, Timothee can you hand this to him."

Timothee reached over to grab the salt and let out a sharp breath, placing a reactionary hand on his side as he handed over the salt.

Noticing the wince, Samuel asked, "What happened there?"

"Oh it's nothing. I fell while playing in the snow."

"Really?" Samuel asked, "Let me see."

Mara shook her head, "You better believe it. He walked in the door smelling like… well I shouldn't say because we are eating but just know it was bad."

Timothee leaned over and lifted the red flannel pajama shirt he was wearing.

"Merlin's beard!" Samuel shouted.

"Oh honey!" Mara sighed when she saw the massive bruise, "You didn't tell me it was that bad!"

Timothee hunched his shoulders, "I didn't think it was."

"Hmm…" Samuel said as he scanned the bruise, "I know just the trick to get you back to yourself."

Getting up from the dinner table, Samuel walked to his briefcase in the corner of the room and set it flat on an end table. Undoing the latches to the suitcase, he opened it and began to search inside. Reaching in with his arm, it continued to go deeper and deeper until half his body disappeared.

Mara chuckled to herself, "If I wasn't married to a wizard, that right there would send me to the loony bin! Never a dull moment when you are married to a wizard."

There was a loud bleat from inside the bag before Samuel pulled himself out of his briefcase holding a long golden eagle feather.

Mara scowled, "What was that?"

"This old thing?" Samuel said nervously, holding up the feather, "A healing feather."

"No," Mara demanded, "The goat sounding creature in your briefcase!"

Samuel looked around nervously, "Oh that silly thing. That is a goat. Bezoar the goat to be exact. He is making Bezoars for my classes next semester and I thought I would bring him home during the holiday."

A look of relief came over Mara as her tense shoulders rested, "Oh thank goodness. I thought it was some sort of Erumpelephent or Demidisguise."

Samuel took a seat at the table, "I think you mean Erumpent and Demiguise and don't worry, it is a normal goat."

Mara pointed her fork at her husband, "Oh yeah? And that Niffler you brought was just a platypus right?"

"Well, sort of," Samuel replied.

Mara looked to Timothee, "Get this. He brings home this adorable looking creature, claims it is a platypus that he is watching for some professor at Salem. Turns out it isn't a platypus at all, it is this Niffler creature and it's a kleptomaniac! Steals every little shiney thing it could get its little paws on. Rings, earrings, necklaces, even our special silverware that was a wedding present," Mara looked to Samuel, "You know I still can't find my grandmother's ring?"

"Yes, I am sorry but there is nothing to worry about. Bezoar is an ordinary goat," Samuel said. Leaning over and looking at Timothee's bruise he whispered, "Or at least I think."

"I heard that," Mara said shaking her head and going back to her meal.

Taking the feather, Samuel began to whisper an incantation as he brushed the golden eagle feather up and down the bruise.

It felt nice and cool as the wind blew over the bruise which was radiantly hot. Slowly the purple and blue discoloration started to retract and disappear into a single point when there was a sudden loud, "Pop!" as a rib snapped back into order.

"Ow!" Timothee yelped, nearly jumping out of his seat. His lower leg hit the bottom of the table and all the plates and cups jumped a quarter inch, landing just offset of their original spot. There was a subtle "cling!" as the two rings around Timothee's kneck fell from his shirt.

"There we go," Samuel whispered when his eye caught the silver wrapping. "What's this?" He said, reaching for the rings.

Timothee's eyes grew wide and it felt like the whole world began to move in slow motion as he watched Samuel grab the two rings. Timothee wanted to pull them from Samuel's hands but for some reason Timothee couldn't move, didn't move, didn't want to bring more attention to them. Would Samuel recognize the…

"Is this unicorn hair?" Samuel asked, as his thumb nail scratched over the silver hair.

"It's…" Timothee started.

"Unicorn hair?" Mara asked, "Can I see?"

Samuel held up the rings and Mara watched the silver glint with the gold in the dining room light.

"Very pretty," Mara admired.

"It's a good luck charm I got back in wizarding school. The mascot was a unicorn."

"Huh," Samuel replied. He let go of the rings and leaned back into his chair. Tucking the feather into the inner pocket of his robes, he said, "I guess I never noticed."

"So what is a bezoar anyways?" Mara asked.

"Good question," Samuel said, "It's the stone from the stomach of a goat and you can actually treat most poisons with it."

"Oh really?" Mara said.

"Isn't that right Timothee?" Samuel said.

Timothee nodded. He didn't want to make eye contact with Samuel but he felt that Samuel was watching him, observing his every move as if to say, "I know."

Dinner was concluded and Timothee and Samuel helped put the food and dishes away before he wished Mara and Samuel a goodnight and made his way to his room. Closing the door behind him and taking one enormous leap he landed on his bed.

"Phew, that was close," He whispered when there was a knock on his bedroom door.

Timothee sat up, opened his history book and set it on his lap, "Come in."

It was Samuel and he closed the door behind himself as he entered Timothee's room.

"Uh oh," Timothee thought, "Maybe I didn't get away with it."

"I…" Timothee began but before he could start, Samuel whipped out his wand and gave it a small flick and casted, "Accio!"

The chain and rings floated over Timothee's head, flew across the room and into Samuel's hand.

Timothee sat silently for what seemed like an eternity as he watched Samuel hold the rings in his hand. Even from across the room, the unicorn hair that bound the gold loops had an iridescent quality to it, changing color ever so slightly as it moved in the light like a white opal.

Samuel looked up from the rings and walked across the room and placed the chain back over Timothee's head. He moved a pillow from the bed and sat down next to the young wizard.

Timothee took the rings and tucked them back under his shirt.

"Your parents loved you with every piece of their being," Samuel said, "And when you have that much love for someone or something, there is nothing that you wouldn't do."

Timothee nodded.

Samuel rubbed the back of his neck, "When they took Mara away from me, when they locked her away at Azkaban… They tried to pull me away from someone who I loved with all my soul. Someone who I would give up everything and do anything to get back."

Samuel sighed, "What am I trying to say? I am trying to say that I get it."

"You do?" Timothee asked.

"I do," Samuel assured, "You love magic, it has been a part of your life ever since you could remember and suddenly someone shows up and tells you that this thing that you love, that you admire, will no longer be a part of your life. If magic is what you truly love then there is no one from the Ministry of Magic to Ursa that can stop you from doing it. Just because they say you can't do something doesn't mean they can stop you. You know why?"

"Why?"

"Because Magic is a part of who you are, it is a part of your soul, the very fabric that makes you, well, you. If someone were to try and take that from you, they would be ripping your soul apart."

"So you are not upset?" Timothee asked.

"No I am not upset. In fact that is not the first homemade wand I've seen. Back when your father and I were working together, we met a wizard who made a wand from an old spoon and a werewolf whisker."

Samuel wrapped his arm over Timothee's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, "Look, just be careful. If the ministry finds out about those rings, they won't hesitate to send you to Azkaban and that is not a place you want to be. You will face adult repercussions for your actions and you are just a kid. You might think you understand what that means but at a young age it's hard to truly conceptualize. What it means to lose ten, twenty, thirty years of your life. Time that you can never get back and so I can't stress it enough to be careful."

Timothee nodded before asking, "What about Mara? I feel like she is so excited for me to live a muggle life that she would be devastated if she found out."

"If you feel comfortable telling her, then by all means let her know. She will love you regardless if you choose to live life as a muggle or an unofficial wizard. She will give you a harder time but that is only because she cares about you and she has been to Azkaban. Did you know I had to freeze all the curtains in this house so that they don't blow in the wind?"

"I never realized it."

"Mara can't handle the blowing fabric. She says it reminds her of dementors. I've seen her have breakdowns over it. She's gotten better now over the years, the nightmares are less frequent, the long stares into night have faded but the stain on her life will never truly be gone. But it's like I said, adult consequences that sometimes adults might not understand."

Timothee nodded.

Samuel turned to Ursa and gave him a light pat on the nose, "In the end if it is what you truly love, truly a part of who you are, she will find a way to accept it."

"Merci," Timothee said.

"Now show me what you can do with this thing!"

Timothee smiled, "Well I am not as good as Theo or Abigail… I mean… They don't… we don't."

Samuel laughed, "Don't worry, I figured if you had a wand, those two would probably have one as well. I am a professor at Salem Timothee. The same school Theodore attended as a first year and I taught Abigail's older sister Ophelia before her unfortunate potion accident. When I saw your wand at dinner I automatically assumed that they had one. Does your friend Archie have one? Is he a wizard as well?"

Timothee shook his head "No, he is a muggle."

"Alright," Samuel said, "So what can you do?"

Timothee grabbed the rings from under his shirt and held them up, "Lumos!"

A bright light flooded the room and both Timothee and Samuel had to shield their eyes.

"Nox!" Timothee called and the light vanished.

"Very nice," Samuel smiled, "What about a lifting charm?"

"I haven't tried one yet," Timothee said.

"Try the alarm clock on your dresser."

Timothee pointed his fist towards the clock and swished and flicked while reciting, "Wingardium Leviosa."

They watched silently as the clock stayed put.

Timothee hunched his shoulders, "I guess I haven't got that one yet."

"Here try this," Samuel said, taking the rings and sliding them over Timothee's ring finger and middle finger. Then he looped the chain around Timothee's hand and wrist, "This should make it easier for spells that emphasize casting movement like a Leviosa or an Expelliarmus. Try it again."

Timothee held up his hand, "Wingardium Leviosa."

The small metal alarm clock with two large bells on the top and a hammer in between lifted off the nightstand and hovered.

Timothee smiled as the alarm clock floated across the room making small "Tings!" as it bounced like a feather on a breeze across the room.

There was a knock at the door, "Hey guys?" Mara said as she entered the room poking her head inside.

Timothee and Samuel froze as the alarm clock hovered just over Mara's head. Timothee took his ringed hand and hid it behind his back.

"Yes honey?" Samuel straight faced.

"It's bed time soon," Mara said.

"You're right," Samuel replied, "I was just talking to Timothee about school."

They watched as the hovering alarm clock started to slowly descend and their eyes grew wide.

"You finish your homework?" Mara asked.

Timothee nodded, "Yes."

"Good!" Mara smiled, "Goodnight!"

"Bonne nuit," Timothee replied.

Mara closed the door just as the clock would have landed on her head.

"Oh," Mara said and began to open the door.

Timothee shot his hand forward and whispered, "Accio!" And the clock fired into his hand just as Mara's head peaked through a second time.

"Wi?" Timothee said.

"Wi?" Samuel repeated before shaking his head, "Yes?"

"Your briefcase is bleating," Mara replied.

Samuel stood from the bed and walked across the room. He gave his wife a kiss on the cheek, "I'll get on that."

Samuel looked at Timothee and winked before leaving the room and closing the door.

Timothee let out a long sigh and placed his alarm clock on the nightstand. He looked at the picture of his parents and smiled. There was a slight tapping on his shoulder and he turned to see Ursa standing there.

"Close one huh?"

Ursa nodded.

Timothee lay back in his bed, pulled the rings from his hand and dangled them over his face. He watched them swing from side to side like a pendulum as his eyes slowly closed to sleep.

Chapter 18

I had no other Choice

Timothee sat with a single gold strand that wrapped around his wrists. The string hung loose but glowed with an inner light. Timothee tried to move his hands but they felt locked like stone, incapable of even the most minutia of movement.

He sat in a chair next to a desk that was neatly organized with case files stacked in one corner, a lamp in the other and a fine gold quill resting in an inkpot. Looking around he watched as a new shift of Aurors walked into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Their finely starched baby blue and black robes with gold fleur-de-lis embroidered over the heart.

Rows of desks lined the room as letters, notes and memos zipped about over head making their way to desks, drawers and filing cabinets.

A pair of Aurors escorted a wizard dressed in all black with dark circles under his eyes to a room in the back and closed the door. He watched as another Auror carried a basket of illegally smuggled Chinese Fireball dragon eggs to his desk and began working on a new file.

A tall Auror with a black buzzed haircut and a receding hairline approached the desk with two paper cups in hand. He had thick eyebrows and deep brown eyes that locked on Timothee who only made brief eye contact.

"Puis-je vous offrir un verre?" The Auror offered, holding one of the drinks forward.

Timothee held his bound wrists up, "Mes mains."

"Ah, pardon" The Auror said. Setting down a cup, he waved his hand and the string vanished into thin air.

Timothee rubbed his wrists before taking the paper cup, "Merci." The cup was warm and felt good against his cold fingers. He looked down and watched as the chocolate swirled in a small cyclonic motion.

"Don't worry. There is no Veritaserum in there. Drink up. You must be thirsty," The Auror encouraged before extending a hand to shake, "Louis Geroux."

Timothee shook the hand, "Timothee Partée."

Louis hand stopped cold mid shake, "Timothee Partée."

"Wi monsieur" Timothee nodded.

Louis eyes searched the young man's face now seeing all the pieces of the puzzle come together. He saw Christiane in the brown-green eyes that gazed sullenly back at him, Édouard in his distinguished facial structure and even Javert in his young but growing frame. They were all there in this living echo sitting right before him.

"But how could this be? How could this child end up in the Auror's office not as an Auror like his predecessors but as a criminal?" He wondered silently.

Unable to make sense of the Auror's gaze, Timothee went back to looking at the swirling hot chocolate.

"What happened?" Louis asked. He opened the case file on his desk and scanned it. His heart dropped when his eyes fell on the words:

**CURSE CLASS:**

UNFORGIVABLE

**CURSE USED:**

IMPERIUS

**CURSE RESULT:**

MURDER

"I don't know," Timothee said.

Louis pulled his chair from behind his desk and sat it next to Timothee's. He took a long sip from his hot chocolate and continued to study the young wizard. All the while wondering "did he actually do it?"

Louis had interviewed many dark wizards in his day and many of them tended to be cold, unyielding, and unapologetic but this boy sitting beside him exuded none of those traits, not one.

"Partée huh?" Louis said, "You wouldn't happen to be the son of Édouard and Christiane?"

Timothee nodded, still not making eye contact.

Louis placed a hand on Timothee's shoulder, "Hey, you want to see something?"

"I guess," Timothee replied.

"Follow me," Louis said. Standing from his seat he took a few steps away from his desk and turned to see that Timothee had not moved.

"Come on," he encouraged with a wave.

Timothee looked up through his dyed black locks of hair and leaned forward before sitting up. A gold band with a blue stone slipped through his white button down shirt, before disappearing as he stood straight up.

A memory flashed in Louis' mind of Christiane as she rubbed her thumb over the blue stone. Oh how he had missed her, his partner, a long lost guilt that had haunted him ever since she had passed away. He should have been there that night to protect her. He failed her but he would not fail her now.

Timothee walked behind Louis as they navigated the work stations of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement until they came up to two desks paired side by side. One was of normal size but another was smaller, child sized to be exact. The brass name plate read, "Pierre Henry."

Louis walked to the desk and ran a finger gracefully along the top of it, "Do you know what this is?"

"No," Timothee replied shaking his head.

"This was your father's Timothee," Louis replied, "And that small desk beside it belonged to..."

"Vert," Timothee said.

Louis was the one to nod his head this time, "Is he still with your family?"

"I only know of him from what my grandmother has told me. She said he was an Auror. First of his kind."

"He was," Louis replied, "Is it true that he also vanished that night?"

"I haven't seen him once," Timothee said.

Louis sighed, "I hope he is okay, where ever he is. I don't think the political atmosphere would accept a house elf as an Auror anymore. We've seem to have regressed over this last decade."

Timothee sat behind the desk and placed his hands on the warn surface, "This is where my father sat, where he worked, where he spent his time."

Louis pointed back towards his desk, "The one you were just sitting at used to be your mother's. She was actually my first partner in the Ministry. And that office over there in the corner, that was your grandfather's, Javert. Boy was he one scary wizard. Tall like a giant and more intimidating than an overgrown Venomous Tentacula. The reason I am showing you all this is for you to see that you come from a long line of good, honest and true wizards. Generations of Aurors that have served this ministry for centuries."

Timothee looked around the department. He always wanted to be an Auror like the rest of his family but after tonight it felt like that dream would never come true, never become a reality.

"So, Tim," Louis asked, "What happened? Were you upset? Were you sad or frightened? I'm not here to judge you. I am here to listen to your story to what you have to say."

Louis Geroux was one of the top Aurors, no longer the green tyro he had been twelve years ago. After years of weaning out confessions, cracked cases and solved mysteries, he knew that all he needed was patience.

Timothee sat for a while, just running his hands along the desk before finally saying, "She was going to jump. I thought I could help her but, she fell."

"The muggle?" Louis asked.

Timothee nodded, wiping a tear from the side of his cheek, "I never would have done it. She made me. I had no other choice. I tried to get her to come down from the railing but the wind, it was just too strong." Timothee looked up at Louis, tears streaming down her face and repeating over and over, "I had no other choice."

Louis walked over and gave Timothee a hug as the young teen sobbed. He looked over and made eye contact with an Auror who had watched the whole thing take place and mouthed, "Get me Jean-Louis Bastion."

Chapter 19

Snow Day

Timothee opened his eyes to the glaring white light from the window in his room. Rolling over, he placed a pillow over his head to block out the bright light. He heard footsteps coming up the stairs and knew it was only a matter of time before Samuel would open his door and tell him to get ready for school.

The door to the room creaked and Timothee pressed the pillow tighter over his head. Dreading the morning marching orders, Timothee was shocked when a boy's voice called, "Hey sleepy head get up!"

"That's not Samuel," Timothee thought. Pulling the pillow away from over his head, he was greeted by a large grin, freckles, thick black rimmed glasses and reddish hair.

"Archie?" Timothee said.

"Morning sunshine!" Archie hailed. Archie was wearing a thick blue winter jacket, a grey knitted cap with a purple puff ball on top and a blue and bronze scarf.

Theo's voice called from downstairs, "Is he up? He's going to miss breakfast!"

"If you eat it all Theo!" Abigail jibed.

"What are you guys doing here?" Timothee asked.

Archie who had taken interest in Ursa walked over to the window and pointed to the pristine white snow that coated everything, "It's a snow day!"

Timothee rubbed his eyes and looked out the window. Archie was indeed right. The amount of snow was astonishing. There was a cotton white pile in the driveway where Samuel's car had been and rolling mounds of snow as far as the eye could see in the birch tree forest.

"How much did it snow?" Timothee wondered aloud.

"Just under two feet," Archie answered, "Well actually it was twenty two inches to be exact and the bare minimum for a snow day is twelve inches."

Timothee shook his head, "So why are you guys over here?"

"To get a curtain you know who out of you know where," Archie whispered.

"What out of what?"

Archie held up his pointer fingers like fangs and started to pant like a dog.

"Oh!" Timothee remembered, "You don't think he is still?"

"Everyone is snowed in, I don't see why not."

Timothee got out of bed and got dressed before meeting the others downstairs. He put on his black jacket with a butterscotch winter cap and black rubber snow shoes. Walking down the steps he found Abigail and Theo at the dinner table munching on tall stacks of waffles topped with whipped cream and strawberries.

"Oh good, you're up!" Mara said, walking into the room and placing a fresh Belgian waffle on an empty plate, "Do you want whipped cream and strawberries as well?"

Timothee nodded as he took a seat, "Yes please."

Theo shoveled a large triangular section of waffle in his mouth and pocketed it into one cheek before saying, "Mrs. Redd, these are the best waffles I have ever had!"

"I agree," Abigail said as she lathered her waffle with more golden amber syrup, "I wish my mom or dad could cook like this. They usually just make cereal in the morning."

"Well, I can't say my intentions are entirely pure," Mara confessed, "I was hoping I could recruit you to shovel the snow in front of the bakery after you were finished?"

Theo nodded enthusiastically, "You got it!"

"Thanks," Mara said, "Maybe you guys can stop by after school next week for some cupcakes. How does that sound?"

The teens all nodded enthusiastically before they went back to their plates of food.

Their plates were polished clean and left in a neat pile next to the sink before they set out into the wintery tundra. The snow was up to their knees and so they walked in a straight line back into town, stepping in each other's footsteps. Theo led the way followed by Timothee, Abigail and Archie trailed in back.

"How did the rest of your night go?" Timothee asked.

Theo turned his head with the red yarn toggles to his cap bouncing with each step, "My dad didn't say much, just told me to clean up before dinner, which was spaghetti. He doesn't really know how to cook much else. You think he would have learned after my mother left. He does make a mean TV Dinner though."

"My dad said I smelled like poop," Abigail explained.

The others laughed.

Archie hopped a step in the snow, nearly losing his balance, "Well that is not entirely inaccurate."

"Ugh," Abigail said, "I don't even want to think about it."

"What about you Arch?" Theo asked.

"Same thing as you guys but I did get a chance to work on some potions before bed."

Abigail sniffled her nose before asking, "Oh yeah? What are you working on now?"

"Well, I've been brewing this stuff called polyjuice. Really gnarly stuff, but it will allow you to change into anyone you want. All you need is a hair or something."

"You are going to drink hair?" Abigail asked in mild disgust.

"Actually I was thinking of mixing it with an animal or something and seeing if it will allow me to transform."

"I don't know Archie," Timothee said, "You could end up coughing up hairballs if you are not careful. Plus, how do you explain that one to your parents?"

"It's only a thought," Archie said, "Who knows if it will even work when it is done. It takes over a month to make."

"What about you Timothee?" Abigail called ahead.

"So Samuel knows," Timothee answered.

"Knows about the werewolf?" Archie asked.

"No," Timothee assured, "He knows about the wands."

Theo stopped in his tracks and turned around, "What did he say?"

"He was surprisingly okay with it," Timothee explained.

"So he didn't take your rings away?" said Abigail.

"No. In fact he showed me a better way of holding them to cast. He says magic is a part of me and that I pretty much have a right to practice it so why stop me. For some reason I thought he was going to be really mad at me but he wasn't. I don't know. I feel like maybe I should tell him about the sleeping curse or potion or whatever. Did you find anything Archie?"

"Didn't have a chance to look," Archie called ahead.

"Wow you're lucky," Abigail said, "If my parents knew I was doing magic they would blow a gasket. After the whole Ophelia daffodil thing they aren't really in favor of me doing magic without going to wizarding school."

Turning onto the main road, they trudged their way through town and passed the various shop owners who were shoveling out their walkways. A group of fourth graders hurled snowballs at each other from makeshift snow forts. The largest of the boys, in a puffy grey jacket, was brave enough to chuck a packed white ball of snow at Abigail.

The grapefruit sized orb spun end over end before it grazed Abigail's shoulder and broke into two pieces. Abigail in turn packed a snow ball while the smaller kids all called out "ooo!" The large boy, who had thrown the snowball, smiled and looked at his friends before waving Abigail on for her best.

Winding up she fired a baseball sized snowball blindingly fast that hissed through the air like a snake. With a little extra magic it hit the fourth grader dead center in the chest and the boy took flight. He landed in a snow bank four feet away that erupted like an ivory volcano, sending a cloud billowing up.

"Did you see that?" One boy yelled.

"We better scram!" Another shouted and the rest of the boys took flight, helping their dazed friend from the embankment.

Abigail wagged a fist in the air, "If you want more, I'll be waiting!"

Continuing to the school, they walked around the circle at town hall as a large red pickup truck with a yellow plow in front went around the circle. The truck piled the snow making a large mound near the bronze statue of the three cherubs while an eager group of third graders looked keen to summit the mound as it grew taller and taller.

It wasn't long before they came to the field doors at the back of the school that were still ajar. In the daylight, the long claw marks that shredded the metal were a grim reminder of the previous night.

"Jeesh," Theo said, "I still can't believe it."

They made their way down to the lower level cafeteria with their feet squeaking on the tiled linoleum flooring where they reached the large metal freezer in the back.

They stood silently, staring at the large metal door, listening for any signs of life. The compressor to the freezer kicked on and they all jumped.

"This is silly," Abigail said. She strode forward and grabbed the metal handle, "Here goes nothing," she declared and lifted the latch causing white clouds of condensate to billow out.

Lying on the frosted floor in a tight wrapped ball was the large motionless muscular body of Vance "The Rocket" Marlett.

"Is he dead?" Archie asked.

"I hope not," Theo said.

Abigail walked into the freezer and knelt down by Vance's side. She placed a hand on his shoulder, "He's really cold."

Vance's head lifted up, his lips were blue, his nose, ears, fingers and toes were red and blackening at their tips. Frost covered his fiery red hair and he was nude. Vance shivered as he mouthed the words, "Help me. So cold."

"Quick!" Abigail said, "Help me get him out of here!"

The others joined in and together they lifted the large teen from the freezer and moved him into the kitchen. Archie ran over to an oven, turned it on full blast, and opened the front door for warmth. Timothee and Theo laid out their jackets on the ground for Vance to lie on while Abigail and Archie laid theirs on top him like a blanket.

Archie fell on Vance and gave him a big hug.

"What are you doing?" Theo asked.

"He needs our body heat! You guys need to do the same!" Archie explained.

"You know he is naked under there right?" Theo said.

"If blood rushes to his heart all at once, he could die!" Archie yelled.

"The others followed suit as they all nestled in tight.

Vance's lean muscular body eventually started shivering more and more as his body began to wake.

Theo looked over at Timothee, "Hard to believe only a few hours ago, he was ready to chew our faces off huh?"

"I heard that," Vance said. His eyes were closed and the pale sickly color that covered his skin was now a flush red.

Archie got up along with the others, "Theo how about you heat up some water, I think there is a coffee machine in the teachers' lounge. Timothee and I will look for some clothes at the lost and found and Abigail."

"Yes?" Abigail asked.

"You stay here just in case he has any effects from the hypothermia."

They scattered and when Timothee returned, he found Abigail sitting next to Vance in front of the open oven.

"Here, found this in the teachers' lounge," Theo said, handing a large yellow goose mug filled with warm tea.

Vance wrapped his hands around the cup and closed his eyes when he inhaled the herbal aromas. Taking a sip, he nodded in appreciation.

Archie tossed Vance a pair of grey sweats, a long sleeve shirt, and an old sweatshirt.

Vance sniffed the clothes and winced.

Archie hunched his shoulders, "Sorry if they smell. Found these in the gymnasium lost and found. I don't know if they will fit but at least it is something."

"Thanks," Vance said and began to get dressed with the others looking away to give him privacy. Once he was done, they got their jackets back and sat around the open oven.

Timothee leaned over to Archie, "He doesn't say much."

"Would you?" Archie replied.

"So Vance…" Theo started.

"I know," Vance interjected, "I remember everything. It's just that when I am… when I become… when I…"

"Turn into a werewolf?" Timothee said.

"Yeah…" Vance said ashamed. He looked down at his tea, "It's me inside that thing but I just can't control it. It's like if someone told you to hold your breath underwater as long as you could. And you fight, and you fight and you fight to stay under but no matter what, your body takes over and you claw for air. When I change, it feels like that same urge only instead of breathing it is to hunt, to feed, to lash out.

I swear I was trying everything in my power not to harm you guys but something inside of me just takes over, something primal and uncontrollable. So I guess, I just wanted to say thanks and I'm sorry. I am glad you guys didn't get hurt."

"How did it happen? Were you bit?" Timothee asked.

Vance leaned over and lifted his shirt. A long half moon of teeth marks ran along his ribs, "Last year. We were playing an away game in Olean and I thought my parents were going to pick me up after the game so I didn't take the school bus back. I was waiting so long that I was the only one out there. They even turned off the stadium lights.

Standing alone it came for me from the forest on the far end of the football field. I was able to hide in the bathroom but it was only after it took a bite out of me.

The changes started with an insatiable hunger for meat, heightened senses and culminating in my first 'change' on the night of the state championship last year. I was just lucky enough to be the only one home when it happened otherwise who knows what I would have done. My biggest fear is the night. Forgetting to check the moon and my little sister being home."

"What do you tell your parents when you go away at night?" Archie asked.

Vance sighed, "Same thing any kid says when he wants to sneak out. That I am just sleeping over at a teammate's house or something."

"Why the water treatment plant?" Timothee asked.

"It's the first place I woke up after the first night. It smells, believe me, but no one is there at night and those pipes are the only thing sturdy enough to hold me down. If I don't set food out for myself or water, I tend to gnaw which leaves me with cuts and scrapes that are hard to explain. When my parents ask, I usually say that the scrapes and bruises are from practice."

Theo shook his head, "I'm sorry."

Vance looked up from his tea, "Can I ask you guys something?"

"Sure," Abigail said.

"How did you guys…" Vance started, "The things I saw you do with the sparks and the glowing fist. What was that?"

Theo, Archie, Timothee and Abigail all shared a look of hesitation before Abigail nodded. She looked Vance in the face, "It's… It's magic."

"And those creatures?" He asked.

"Goblins," She answered.

Archie raised a finger, "Well actually…" he started but was cut off as the others repeated in unison, "Troblins, we know." They all turned back to Vance who was thinking.

Vance was quiet for a long moment before nodding his head, "Makes sense."

"Really?" Abigail asked.

Vance nodded, "If I turn into a wolf beast creature thing every full moon, a werewolf as you called it earlier, then why shouldn't magic exist? If you would have told me last year before Olean I would have laughed, maybe even thought it was crazy, but now anything seems possible. So what are you guys, wizards?"

"Timothee and I are wizards," Theo explained, "And Abigail is technically a witch. Archie is the only muggle in the group."

"Muggle?" Vance asked.

"Nomaj," Theo added.

"I can't do magic," Archie said.

"Oh" Vance said, "So where those spells?"

"Yup," Theo said, "We don't really know too many yet but we can do some."

"Is there any way you guys can use your magic turn me back? You know, to be normal again?" Vance asked.

Archie shook his head, "I'm sorry. There is nothing we could do to turn you back. Even in the magical world, lycanthropy is an unchangeable condition. What we could do is look into something called Wolfsbane Potion."

"What would that do?" Vance asked.

"You know that urge you were explaining? The one you couldn't control?" Archie asked.

Vance nodded.

"Well it would give you a way to control it. You would still turn on the full moon but you would still be you inside," Archie explained.

Vance cracked a half smile, "That would work. That would work really well actually. When can I get it?"

"We don't have it yet but we know a guy who might help us out," Theo said.

Archie reached into an inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a black notebook, "This is yours."

Vance took the notebook, "My planner. I was looking all over for it. I thought I had left it at home and left school to find it."

"I found it in the gym yesterday," Archie explained.

"Thanks," Vance said, looking at the notebook and impulsively checking the dates, "Even though I have all the full moons memorized, for some reason I have to always check this thing. I look at the same days over and over again. It never changes, I know, but I have to check anyways.

I have nightmares of moonrises during school, on the football field or the baseball diamond but the one that scares me the most is being home, playing with my little sister when it comes over the horizon or the clouds part. I've thought of running away but I don't know where I would go or what my parents would think." Vance closed the book and looked up, "You know it feels kind of nice."

"What?" Abigail asked.

"Having someone to talk to," Vance said, "It's been a secret that has been crushing me for a year. And now, even though nothing has changed, just telling you guys makes me feel better."

After making sure Vance was alright to head home, the young wizards said their goodbyes and made their way to town. They offered to have him sit with them at lunch during school but Vance had a different schedule and promised to occasionally stop by if class let out early.

Keeping their promise to Mara, the four teens borrowed shovels from the other shop owners and cleared the walkway to M's bakery.

Theo jammed the head of the shovel into the snow and lifted a large icy mound. His face was beet red as he flung the snow into the street and let out a large gasp. Sticking the shovel back into the snow, he rested his arm on the handle as the others worked away on the path, "You know I never really thought about the whole werewolf thing from Vance's perspective."

"Me too," Abigail said as she tucked a few frazzled strands of her emerald locks back behind her ear, "I guess you always see werewolves as bad guys in the movies you never really stop to think if one of us became one."

"Werewolves aren't really treated well even in the magical world," Timothee said, "My friend Pierre from Pursang has an uncle who is a werewolf. His family disowned him for it and he could never find any work. Everyone thought he was dangerous."

Archie tossed a pile of snow, stood up and grabbed his back and winced. His face was red and he had drops of sweat running from his temples, "You know maybe Vance should write a book or something."

"A book?" Theo asked, "Why?"

Archie brushed snow from his shoes, "You know. Maybe Vance could help other people who become werewolves. He said he felt better after telling us. Maybe if others felt alone like he did and they read his book, then maybe they would feel better too."

Abigail grinned, "That's not a bad idea."

"What would he call it?" Theo said, as he went back to shoveling.

"I don't know," Archie said as he did the same.

"Hairy Snout?" Timothee suggested.

"With a human heart," Abigail added.

"Hairy Snout, Human Heart," Archie said, "Has a nice ring to it. Who knows, maybe it will be something someday."


	6. Partee Child Part 6

Chapter 20

Fast Ball

The grass was green again. Vibrant jade sprouts were starting to bud on the white birch trees. The snow that had blanketed the ground was finally gone. Birds were returning from their migration south and the sun seemed to stay out longer and longer into the day. It was spring and the frosty grip that winter had on the land was starting to slip away.

"STRIKE!" A large man wearing grey slacks, black pants and a wire caged mask shouted. He fired a finger outward and pointed to the dugout.

A teenage boy wearing tight slate pants and a crimson jersey smacked the head of his maple wood bat against a white pentagonal plate. Resting the bat against his hip, he spit into his black gloves, rubbed them together, re-gripped his light grain bat and took a sideways stance next to home plate. His chest heaved, causing the bear insignia over his chest to bob up and down as he stared down the pitcher sixty feet away.

A baseball with dirt tan leather and vivid crimson stitches whizzed past the plate and hit the catcher's mitt in a loud "thwap!"

The batter never stood a chance as he lost his balance mid swing and found himself falling over the plate.

"STRIKE THREE!" The umpire boomed. The veins in his neck pulsed and his face turned a beet red.

Students and parents stood to their feet and cheered before starting the chant, "Gryphs! Gryphs! Gryphs!" Quiet at first, the chant grew to a deafening level as their feet stomped the planks of aluminum that made up the floors of the bleachers.

"She's got him too," Theo yelled in an attempt to be heard over the crowd. He watched the batter from the Lewistown South High School Bears stand up, brush the dirt from his grey pants and stomp off towards the dugout.

"Another one bites the dust," Archie said.

"Literally," Timothee added.

"She's on fire right now. They might move her from closer to starter," Theo said.

"Closer to starter?" Timothee asked.

"I forget you don't know baseball," Theo replied, "Phillip Tolbey was today's starting pitcher. He pitched in the beginning of the game but as he got tired they called in a fresh pitcher to continue the game. With only a few innings left, they called in Abigail to close the game."

Timothee nodded, "Thanks."

"STRIIIIIIIKE!" The umpire bellowed to which the crowd clapped their hands three times in unison, fired a fist in the air, and chanted, "Gryphs!"

"She better be careful," Archie said.

"Why is that?" Theo wondered, "No one has even come close to hitting that cheese."

Archie pointed to a man wearing a blue and white collared shirt holding a coal black rectangular box with a gun handle, "That's a radar gun and it's measuring how fast she is pitching. Watch the numbers."

Another ball hissed through the air before hitting the catcher's glove in another "Thwap!" The catcher pulled out his hand from the glove and gave it a shake while looking into his palm.

Archie, Theo and Timothee watched as a series of red digital numbers popped up reading, "_101mph_."

"Wow! That's fast!" Theo gasped.

"Too fast! That's the second pitch she's broken over a hundred and most of her pitches are coming in at the mid to high nineties," Archie explained, "There are guys starting for the Yankees who don't even have heat that fast."

The scout hit the side of the radar gun with his palm and flicked the on switch a few times.

Theo shook his head, "Poor Tommy Helsen's palm must be taking a beating at those speeds. Glad I am not that guy."

Abigail lifted her hat from her head and dried her brow with her white and blue pinstripe shirt sleeve. Tucking her green lock of hair behind her left ear, she fixed her hat back to her head and brought her glove to cover the lower part of her face.

A man with peppered grey hair and a Gryphon's blue and gold polo shirt cupped his hands to his mouth, "Come on Abby!"

"You got it girl!" A woman said and followed with a long hoot.

Timothee turned and watched as the man put his arm around the woman and gave it a squeeze. They sat next to a honey yellow daffodil that was potted in a burnt orange terracotta pot. They had been cheering the loudest since Abigail took the mound and were the only ones to affectionately call her "Abby."

"Is that?" Timothee started.

"Mr. and Mrs. Sesami-Rossi," Archie said, "Oh look, they brought Ophelia with them. I wouldn't mind taking a look at her."

Theo turned his head back to watch the couple, "I wonder if Samuel could help Ophelia?"

"I don't think so. She was one of his students. I'd imagine he would have helped her by now if he could." Timothee answered.

"STRIIIIIKKEEE THREE!" The umpire called for one last time.

"That's game," Archie said, shaking his head, "103, ugh. I need to talk to that witch."

They got up from their bleacher row and trotted down towards the field with the rest of the parents and friends.

The Witchaven Gryphons varsity baseball team lined up and shook hands with the defeated Lewistown South High School Bears. Many of the Lewiston boys examined Abigail closely to see if the rumors were true that a girl had pitched a no hitter for three straight innings.

As the two coaches rounded out the end of their team's lines, the rest gathered in a giant circle where they shouted, "Gryphs!" before collecting their things in the dugout and greeting those that came to watch the game.

Abigail walked towards the section of chain link fence where her three friends had gathered to greet her. She had a long leather bag slung over her shoulder with three gripped bats pointing out of the top. Her pitching arm had a large bag of ice secured to it by layers upon layers of cellophane.

"Way to go Abigail!" Theo said as they high fived over the waist high fence.

"That was great!" Timothee cheered before his high five.

"You need to keep that under control," Archie scolded, killing the mood.

Abigail grinned and gave Archie a high five anyway, "I knew he was going to say that."

"How fast do you think you were pitching?" Archie persisted.

"I don't know? Seventy-seven maybe eighty-five tops," Abigail guessed.

"One-o-one," Archie said, "And that last pitch, the one to close the game, was one-o-three."

Abigail's face lit up, "Really? Neat."

Theo proceeded to give Abigail another high five.

Archie pointed back towards home plate where the Gryphon's head coach and the scout who had watched the games were talking. The scout continued to point to the rectangular radar gun and shake his head, "They are talking about your little performance today and maybe this time they can say the gun was malfunctioning but if they catch on to your little shenanigan, you could make national news."

"How is that a bad thing?" Theo asked.

"Right? Scouts equals scholarships, equals free college or even better the majors!" Abigail said.

"Or, Scouts equals national news, equals a ministry investigation, equals a one way ticket not to the majors but to Azkaban." Archie countered.

"Oh," Abigail replied.

"Oh is right," Archie said, "So let's take a little off the top next time before girl wonder gets us all locked up. I doubt anyone in high school will stop your slider or curveball."

Vance walked past them with a bat bag slung over his shoulders. His red hair was grown out longer than usual and he had eye black under his eyes.

"Nice game Abby," He said before walking over to his family. Reaching over the chain link fence, he picked up a little girl with long wavy red hair and freckles. Vance planted a kiss on her cheek and the small girl immediately wiped her face and cried, "Yuk!"

Abigail turned back to the others as they looked on in complete and utter disbelief.

"What?" She asked.

"Aren't you going to do anything?" Theo said.

Abigail shook her head, "Why?"

"Um, maybe it's because he called you Ab…," Archie started and stopped seeing the fire glow in her eyes, "He called you A-B-B-Y."

"Even I was expecting a punch to the arm," Timothee confessed.

"I don't know," Abigail replied, "It's different."

"Different how?" Theo pressed.

"We are teammates," Abigail uttered, "Or maybe he is just grateful for the Wolfsbane potion that Kevin was able to get him."

A group of players walked past the fence, shouting out, "Way to go Abigail!" and "Nice game Abigail!"

Tommy Helsen held up his open hand to show off the bruised circle in the middle of his palm, "Look what Abigail did!"

"They call you Abigail," Archie observed.

A sly grin grew over Theo's face, "Wait a minute. You have a crush on him, don't you?"

Abigail's face turned flushed, "What! No I don't!"

"Oh yeah?" Timothee said.

They looked over as Vance looked their way. Making eye contact with Abigail he winked with his blue left eye before going back to his parents.

Theo smiled, "If I didn't know any better Arch, I would say he likes her too."

"Ooo!" Archie and Timothee taunted.

Abigail dropped her leather bag and began to reach for one of her bats. Archie and Timothee took a step back from the fence.

"Hi Boys," Mr. and Mrs. Sesami-Rossi greeted, grinning from ear to ear. Mrs. Sesami-Rossi was wearing a long brown paisley dress and carried the terracotta pot with Ophelia like one would hold an infant. Mr. Sesami-Rossi was dressed in a Witchaven High polo and wore khaki slacks.

"Hi Mr. and Mrs. Sesami-Rossi," The three teens called back.

Tom Sesami-Rossi turned to his daughter, "You played so well today. You're quite the closer like your old man. Here let me carry that bag for you."

"Thanks dad," Abigail said.

Mrs. Sesami-Rossi leaned over the fence and planted a large wet kiss on Abigail's cheek, leaving two maroon lipstick marks.

"Oh look what I've done," She said and started to rub her daughter's cheek.

Abigail pulled her face away and scrubbed her cheek with her sleeve, "Mom please."

"Abby you were so good today! I must admit, I was a little worried when you told me you would be playing with the boys," Mrs. Sesami-Rossi continued.

"Mom!" Abigail interjected.

"I know, I know," She apologized, "It's just that they are so big and scary looking with the black makeup on their face."

"It's not makeup. It's eye black mom. It blocks out the sun," Abigail explained.

"Eye black, well it looks scary and I don't want my little Abby Wabby getting hurt!"

Abigail turned bright red for a second time, "Ma please! Not in front of my friends."

Theo leaned over and whispered in Timothee's ear, "Abby Wabby huh?"

Abigail's father placed a hand on his wife's shoulder, "Margery, love, you are embarrassing her."

"Alright. Alright. My mistake. Look who we brought to watch you!" Mrs. Sesami-Rossi said, holding up the terracotta pot, "It's Ophelia!"

Archie took a step closer and adjusted his black framed glasses to get a better look at the yellow daffodil.

Abigail lowered her hat to cover her face and looked towards the sky, "Mom, why did you bring Ophelia?"

"We thought a little sun would do her well," Mrs. Sesami-Rossi explained, "Besides she wanted to watch you play."

"Mom, she's a daffodil, she can't watch anything. It's embarrassing! No one else's parents brought a potted plant to the game."

Mrs. Sesami-Rossi placed a hand in front of the daffodil as one would cover a young child's ears, "You don't mean that. It's not weird to your friends, they already know about m-a-g-i-c. Right boys?"

Theo and Timothee nodded in agreement while Archie moved his head in order to see around Mrs. Sesami-Rossi's hand.

"It's magic, you can say the word. Dad can you please?" Abigail pleaded.

Mr. Sesami-Rossi placed a hand on his wife's shoulder, leaned in and placed a kiss on her cheek, "Margery honey, maybe we can go pick up a cupcake at M's bakery to celebrate Abby's performance."

"Oh that would be lovely," Margery Sesami-Rossi said, "Boys, would you like to join us for dinner tonight?"

"Their busy," Abigail interjected before her friends could answer. She dreaded the thought of an entire dinner with her parents and her friends.

"Oh, well maybe another time then," Margery nodded as her husband shepherded her away. He turned back and winked at his daughter who mouthed the words, "Thanks."

"So Abby Wab…" Theo started but his words were cut short by a right cross to the arm, "Ouch!"

"And next time it's two!" Abigail threatened, "And that goes for you two as well."

Timothee and Archie nodded with their hands held up in surrender.

"So… is it time?" Abigail asked.

Timothee nodded his head, "Wi."

The white bark of the birch trees that surrounded the young wizards' forest hangout was stained and charred all different colors from purples, blues and reds to greens, oranges and pinks. One particular tree was nothing more than a jagged white poll sticking from the ground and another was stripped of all its' bark. A large pit had formed where the elm tree stump had been and was now filled with brown slushy mud.

Abigail pulled out her black skeleton key from her white and blue pinstripe jersey that had blue cursive diagonally along the front that read "Gryphons." She lifted the green ribbon over her head and wrapped the key and string around her hand. She turned her cap backwards and a few green strands fell down alongside her face.

Theo, a few paces away, rolled up his sleeves to his red and yellow plaid shirt. He pulled his pen from his pocket and raked his thumbnail along the invisible Thestral hair.

Archie held up both hands, "Okay, nice and easy this time, nonverbal casting only. Abigail, you will start with Expelliarmus and Theo, you will counter with Protego."

Theo raised his hand like he was in school.

"What is it?" Archie asked.

"Timothee said students don't learn nonverbal casting until sixth year. Technically we would only be fourth years," Theo contested.

Archie shook his head, "If we are going off of technicalities, then you were kicked out of Wizarding School and shouldn't be doing spells in the first place."

Theo puckered his lower lip, "Valid point."

Archie turned, "And Abigail, nothing other than Expelliarmus. That Curse of the Bogies you used last week was unfair and would have knocked Timothee out of school for a week if it wasn't for Samuel."

Abigail grinned, "No bogies. Got it. But I can't promise Theo won't be spitting slugs after this."

Theo clapped a hand over his mouth at the memory from last fall, his eyes wide with terror.

"Expelliarmus only!" Archie insisted.

"Oh fine," Abigail sighed.

Timothee pointed to the two of them, "Okay Abigail, on go. Three… two… one… go!"

Abigail swished her wand downward, ending in a small counter clockwise spiral to which Theo swung his hand like a backhand in tennis. Abigail in turn countered with the same movement and Theo in turn countered with his. They went back and forward, repeating their motions over and over like an invisible tennis match.

Timothee and Archie's heads went back and forward as if they were following an invisible Quaffle being passed back and forward.

Archie leaned over to Timothee and whispered, "Is this what nonverbal casting is supposed to look like?"

Timothee shook his head "no."

"Then what are they doing?" Archie said.

"Interpretative dance?" Timothee guessed.

"You know," Abigail huffed between spiraling hand movements, "This. Is. A lot. Harder. Than. It. Looks!"

"Well. Maybe. If. I. Actually. Had. Something. To. Block. I. Could. Cast. My. Charm! Abby! Wabby!" Theo hissed through gritted teeth as he back handed imaginary spells.

Abigail stopped casting, her eyes wild and wide.

Theo grinned, slowly nodded, and held his pen at his side like a holstered six shooter from the Wild West.

Abigail whipped her key around shouted, "Expelliarmus!"

"Non verbal only!" Archie yelled but it was too late, the red orb was bounding towards Theo when he back handed the spell with an audible, "Protego!"

The red orb hit an invisible wall that reverberated waves of blue like a stone dropped in a pond. The orb bounced off and hit a tall thin birch tree, snapping branches, and staining the birch bark rosy pink.

In one sweeping motion, Theo linked his shield charm to another spell by doubling back his hand movement in the form of a scythe and shouting, "Patrificus totalus!"

Not expecting such a fast counter, Abigail had no choice but to dive out of the way, getting a mud stain on one of the knees of her white and blue pinstriped baseball pants.

Abigail pointed to a branch over Theo's head and called "Confrigo!" Her aim was off by mere inches but it was enough for the spell to hit the trunk of the tree. Splinters flew in every direction and there was a menacing cracking sound as the upper half of the tree came crashing down on Theo's head.

"Reducto!" Theo countered with a zig and a zag of his pen and the tree rained down harmlessly as tan flecks of sawdust. Then drawing his fountain pen back like a whip he cracked it forward and hissed, "Ventus!"

The falling cloud of sawdust was blown towards Abigail in a spiraling funnel that whined like a hurricane. Abigail placed a hand over her stinging eyes as the winds continued to push her back. Still wearing her baseball cleats, she managed to keep her feet firmly planted to the ground.

Letting out a frustrated scream, she took her key, held it in front of her and shrieked, "Incendio!"

The blinding sand like chips of wood were incinerated by a wall of flame coming from Abigail's key. The combination of wind and fire roared loudly and the heat was so intense that Archie and Timothee had to cover their eyes. Smoke came billowing out in every direction like a grey fog.

After the smoke had cleared, Theo and Abigail stood across from each other breathing heavily with the look of unwavering determination strewn across their faces.

"Merlin's beard, that was totally rad!" Archie said, putting both his hands on his head in disbelief, "You guys duel like the wizards in my books!"

He walked between the two fuming teens and knelt down to pick up a pile of ash. The black soot was light as a feather and coated his hands like chalk, "I mean if you could just do it nonverbally we would really have something here. I think you guys should try it again."

Abigial exhaled like an angry bull. She whipped her key around her head and shouted, "Mimblewimble!"

Archie's words started to gum together as his tongue began to move like a giant wad of chewing gum in his mouth. His eyes widened with surprise as he put his fingers in his mouth and tried to free his gluey tongue.

"You want non verbal Arch?" Theo hissed venomously. Without a word and a quick flick of his wrist, Archie found his shoes tied together, hobbling unsteadily on the soft ground.

"Arch watch out!" Theo said but it was too late and Archie hopped to the edge of the pit where the elm tree stump had been. He fell backwards and a loud splash of brown water went flying into the air.

Both Abigail and Theo uttered their counter curse as they ran over to Archie's aid. Timothee stood at the edge and offered Archie a hand up.

"Ugh!" Archie said as he wiped the brown slop from his hands, "Now why did you guys have to go and do that?"

"Hey, I'm sorry Arch!" Theo said and offered a hand.

"Me too," Abigail added and extended hers.

Archie grabbed both extended hands to help him up and grinned through his mud speckled glasses.

"Archie don't you!" Abigail shouted. Archie pulled back hard on both extended hands and found himself with two more occupants in the mud pit.

Timothee stood at the top of the pit laughing but soon realized that he was the only clean one which made him the next target. He attempted to run but found that his legs were locked. With his arms waving frantically in the air, he too found himself in the large pit as well.

"Silent leg locker," Abigail grinned.

The four of them played in the mud like children, tossing globs at each other and throwing each other around until they were all good and covered.

"Here. Check this out," Archie said. He sat at the edge of the pit with the others watching and began to draw in the mud with his pointer finger. He drew an upward arching slash followed by a downward counter clockwise spiral.

"What's that Arch?" Theo asked.

Archie retraced his drawing in the mud, "Protego followed by Expelliarmus. Linking spells, it is a more efficient way to duel. Recognize this one?" Placing his finger a little further down, he continued to draw a sharp angled zigzag followed by a curved "S" shape.

"Reducto-Ventus," Timothee answered.

"Hey, that was what I did," Theo said, "I didn't even realize it."

Archie stood up and a glob of brown mud fell from his earlobe, "I know nonverbal spells are going to be hard, so in the mean time we can also work on linking spells. Build on what we know. I'm impressed at how quickly you guys are picking up these spells, you duel like sixth years!"

Theo nudged Abigail with his elbow, "You hear that, sixth years."

"Do you think third years would be this advanced at Pursang?" Archie asked.

Timothee hesitated, "It's different."

"How so?" Abigail said.

"Here, us three, we practice dueling constantly and because of that we have gotten really good at it. The way you turned that falling branch into dust was amazing Theo and Abigail, that fire wall you created was so hot I had to double check that I still had eyebrows. But Wizarding School is not all about casting spells or knowing how to duel. It's about learning magic. Does that make sense?"

"Uh, kind of?" Abigail said.

Timothee licked his lips and thought for a moment, "For instance, what are the two main ingredients to the Draught of Living Death?"

Theo and Abigail shared a glance, "I don't know."

"Archie?" Timothee asked.

"Oh shoot, I read this a few months ago," Archie humpfed.

"Wormwood and asphodel," Timothee explained, "Okay, why must you wear ear protection when potting mandrakes?"

"Don't know," Theo said.

"No clue," Abigail followed.

"Because the cry of a full grown mandrake is fatal," Theo said, "What is the key use of Bubotuber pus?"

"Bubo what?" Abigail said.

"Bubotuber pus," Timothee repeated.

"Ew, pus?" Abigail said.

Timothee nodded, "It's a thick yellow green liquid that smells like gas."

"Sounds kind of gross," Archie replied.

"It looks gross," Timothee said, "But it is great for getting rid of pimples."

"I see what you are getting at," Abigail said, "Magic isn't just dueling, it's an entire world."

Timothee pointed to Abigail and nodded, "In Wizarding school you learn about everything from transfiguration, defense against the dark arts, potions classes, herbology, history of magic, divination, there is even a class in first year where you learn to ride a broom. The magical world is just that, an entire world that you learn from and explore. Do things you never thought possible or see things that are incomprehensible."

Theo's face lit up, "Man, I sure do miss it."

"Did you know that there is a creature called the Thunderbird that can actually make it rain? Or that the Occamy can fill the space of anything that encapsulates it? I'm talking from the size of an entire house to the size of a tea kettle in the blink of the eye. So it is good that we are learning to protect ourselves but if we just focus on dueling we will forget the most important thing about magic?"

"What is that?" Archie said.

Timothee turned and grabbed a small smoldering wood chip and cupped it in his hand. Blowing onto the chip, a small corner of it turned bright red and held a flame. Timothee closed his eyes and whispered, "Avem Ignis" and a small miniature phoenix cried out as it flew out of his hands and soared over their heads. Timothee looked back at the others, "We will forget that magic is beautiful."

Chapter 21

Wizergen!

Timothee's eyelids weighed ten pounds as he fought to keep his eyes open to the droning voice of Mr. Applegate. His head was propped up by his hand and yet it still rolled from side to side. Shaking his head and giving himself a light slap against his cheek, Timothee sat straight up and scanned the classroom. He observed that he wasn't the only one struggling to stay awake and watched as Archie pinched himself in the arm. Behind Archie, Theo slept with his head rested on his desk.

A girl in his class, Kimberly Adams, tried to smother a yawn in the crook of her elbow and while she was able to conceal it, the entire class was soon a wave of yawning students. Even Mr. Applegate found himself holding a closed fist to his mouth trying to stifle his exhaustion. Turning around, he grabbed his coffee cup and gulped it down to the last drop.

Seeing the yawn take place, Archie took down another tick mark in his binder.

"How many?" Timothee mouthed.

Archie showed two sets of ten with both hands.

The exhaustion was getting worst by the minute as no one was immune to its oppressive weight. Timothee thought to himself, "Wizergen! I need to get to my locker and get more Wizergen."

The bell rang over the loud speaker and the students in the class sleepily rose to their feet and collected their belongings.

"Was that as bad as I thought it was?" Archie asked, nearly shaking his glasses off his face.

"Worst," Theo mumbled, "I'm just glad Mr. Applegate didn't catch me sleeping in his class. I would have had detention until I was a senior."

"Hey guys!" Abigail called out. She darted through the horde of students that trudged along like zombies.

Timothee noticed the distress in her face, "What's wrong?"

"My Wizergen!" Abigail huffed, "It's all gone! I was trying to stay awake in Latin and so I asked if I could use the bathroom. When I checked my locker all my vials were gone!"

"Don't worry. I still have some left in my locker," Timothee said as he spun the dial on his lock clockwise and then counter clockwise.

"Hey, can you grab one for me?" Archie requested.

"Me too!" Theo added.

Pulling down on the metal combination lock there was a loud "click," before Timothee jimmied it open and lifted the metal slide. Swinging open the door, he reached for the top shelf of his locker.

"What is it?" Abigail asked.

"They're gone," Timothee answered, "He pulled down the empty vial box, "This is impossible. I had half a box left yesterday."

"Quick let's go to my locker," Archie said, "I had the most Wizergen left out of all of us."

Archie swung his locker open and to his dismay, his box was empty as well.

"It's gone… all of it!" Archie yelled, pulling out his vial box and throwing it in the trash.

Archie turned to the others, "Okay, when was the last time you guys took your Wizergen?"

Abigail kept shaking her head in order to fight off her exhaustion, "Yesterday or the day before? No Yesterday. I can't think straight!"

"Before lunch yesterday," Theo said.

"Same for me," Timothee yawned. The others followed suit.

"Wizergen lasts up to twenty four hours which means we need to take another dose soon!"

There was a loud thrum in the air and every single human being in the school froze like a sculpture with their eyes closed.

"It's happening again!" Abigail said.

Entering the nearest classroom, the four teens weaved between the statuesque classmates. Some were packing their book bags while others were midstride down the rows of desks. Mr. Burnside stood in the front of the classroom holding up a beaker filled with a green glowing liquid. He made short staccato snores as his chest bobbed up and down.

Archie ran to the nearest window and pointed to the sky as waves of green and red danced in the heavens, "Aurora Borealis during the day time!"

"The curse is activated!" Timothee yelled.

"Where is our nearest supply of Wizergen?" Theo asked.

"Kevin?" Abigail suggested.

Archie turned and ran towards the classroom door, "Let's go!"

Abigail, Archie, Theo and Timothee, ran as fast as they could down the main street passing townsfolk who had all fallen asleep in the midst of their normal lives. A woman walking her dog fell asleep next to her furry friend while a portly police officer who was directing traffic had fallen asleep in the middle of the road. He still had his traffic whistle in his mouth and let out loud whistling snores as he slept.

Timothee fought with everything in his body to stay awake but he found himself slowly slipping away. His foot caught on the crack of an uneven sidewalk and he was sent tumbling into the air.

Theo ran over and hooked an arm under Timothee's armpit and hauled him to his feet.

"Just let me rest here a bit" Timothee sighed mid yawn.

"Come on Tim!" Theo ordered, "We are almost there! Don't fall asleep on me now!"

Timothee bit down hard on his tongue and the pain sent a jolt through his entire body as he tasted blood. He got to his feet with the help of Theo and ran to keep up with the others.

The mayor of Witchaven stood mid stride as he entered the tall colonial white town hall building. It seemed like nothing was immune to the curse as the young spring purple tulips that surrounded the cherub bronze statue sagged and wilted.

"It's just down here!" Archie said. He dodged a red and white checkered table in front of Casa Della Nonna.

Abigail, with her athletic prowess, hurdled a crate of books that were being wheeled into Jo's Nook before planting a heel into the ground to stop. She swung the door open and darted into Precious Boutiques with the others close behind her.

Timothee pointed to a box with small half filled vials of blue liquid and yelled, "On the counter!"

Theo bumped a red and white porcelain vase with his shoulder which rocked from side to side before taking a spill off the shelf. Abigail caught the vase out of mid air before resting it on the ground.

Theo pulled out the vials on the counter and tossed them to the others, "Here! Everyone take one!"

They stood in a circle and upended their Wizergen vials and sucked them dry. The cool liquid ran down their throats and into their stomachs.

Timothee looked to Archie who was licking his lips over and over.

"Whaw is wiss?" Theo asked, holding up the vial and examining it.

"Hey, My Wips are Wumb!" Abigail shouted, putting a hand to her mouth.

Timothee leaned over the counter where he saw Kevin laying on his back with an empty vial by his head, "Kevin drank this stuff and he isn't awake…"

Timothee felt his head swim and the room began to spin in dizzying circles. He dropped to one knee and planted both hands on the ground in an attempt to steady himself.

Archie grabbed his stomach and winced, "What did we dwink?"

It was at that moment an all too familiar whiny voice called out in the Precious Boutique, a voice they had not heard in months.

"Draught of the Living Death Thistle!"

"Just a drop Thorne! We don't want them to sleep too long!"

Abigail fell back and wrapped an arm over the countertop, "You poisoned us!"

Thorne shook his head, "Not poisoned silly girl!"

"Just sleepy!" Said Thistle, "Very sleepy!"

Timothee felt his arms go numb as he rolled onto his back and watched the room continue to spin. His vision started to turn black while the gleeful high pitched cheers of Thistle and Thorne slowly floated away.

"Master will be so pleased!"

"So pleased indeed!"

Chapter 22

The Dolomites

"It's a ninety-nine! Top in the class! No, no, you're right. Next time I will make sure I get a hundred."

"Psst, Hey Arch, wake up!" Theo said quietly. He grabbed Archie's shoulder and gave it a light nudge.

Archie opened his eyes to the darkness, "Wait, what's going on? Where am I?"

Adjusting the black thick framed glasses on his face, it was hard for him to see in the dimly lit cell. The walls were made of large slate stone blocks and bits of moldy hay were strewn along the floor. Tall rusted bars ran from the ceiling to the floor where a pathway bisected two rows of cells on either side. A single barred window faced out into night air which let in a bone chilling breeze.

High pitched squeaks of rats echoed throughout the dark dungeon unseen as they scampered about in the nooks and crannies.

Archie sat up and felt his head spin. He was breathing heavily and still struggled to fully catch his breath, "Where are we?"

"I don't know," A girl's voice called in the dark.

"Abigail? Is that you?" Archie said.

"Right here," She answered, placing a hand on his leg.

"What is this place?" He asked.

"A dungeon," Theo answered. Theo had to steady himself with a hand on the wall as he got to his feet. He walked to the square barred window and peered outside, "A dungeon somewhere high in the mountains from what I can see."

Archie joined Theo at the cell window and saw towering snow capped mountains span in every direction in white waves of snow. A full moon was high overhead and it illuminated the ivory crests giving them an iridescent glow in the night.

"Either we are in the Rockies or," Archie started.

"Or what?" Abigail asked, peering over their shoulders at the view.

"Or we are in a different country all together," Archie answered.

"How do you know that?" Theo asked.

Archie pointed through the bars at the mountains, "Those mountains are too big to be from New York or anywhere on the east coast. I'd bet anything that those peaks are over ten thousand feet if not more."

"That lot there are the Italian Dolomites mate," A raspy sullen voice called in the shadows.

The three teens spun around in the dark, facing the cell across from them.

"Who's there?" Abigail called.

Two hands came forward through the rusted bars of the opposite cell and rested on a cross bar. A head slowly emerged into the low light. Dark long brown hair dangled over his face and his shaggy 5 o'clock shadow had grown into the early stages of a beard.

"Mr. Spoon?" Archie called out.

The corner of the wizard's mouth cocked up slightly. His face looked gaunt and starved with large dark bags under his red eyes. The panic of being a captive had faded and a hopelessness had settled in as if he was reverting to a state he was familiar with.

Theo walked to the cell bars, "What are you doing here? What are any of us doing here in Italy?"

Abigail looked around the tiny cell, "Hey guys, where is Timothee?"

"He's with her," Daniel whispered.

Chapter 23

The Mind Unlocked

"Imperio!" Timothee shouted in the Parisian summer air with his ebony wand outstretched in his hand. A grey wisp spewed from the tip of his wand and danced along the cool starry night.

Elawin let out a delicate gasp. She looked like a ballet dancer coming to rest as her extended hands gracefully lowered to her side and her head tilted in a peaceful calm. Nine hundred feet below the Eiffel Tower the buildings looked like toy models while the yellow traveling dots of headlights traveled up and down the streets.

"Now come down from the ledge," Timothee ordered, his outstretched hand trembling violently.

Elawin lifted one foot away from the railing back towards the platform. It was halted by a strong gust of wind that hit her from behind. Her black silk dress pushed forward outlining the curves of her body and her jet black hair covered her face. She didn't fight for balance, she didn't let out a scream, she only turned as she fell, her sapphire eyes locking with Timothee's as she disappeared over the ledge.

"NO!" Timothee screamed. Dropping his wand and sprinting to the ledge. He watched her vanish into the darkness. Moments later a crowd gathered around a spot far below the like ants around a breadcrumb.

Timothee couldn't move, he couldn't think, he didn't know if he was breathing or not. His hands gripped the railing so tight they cramped and trembled. His knees were weak as if he could collapse at any moment and it felt as if something inside of him had been broken. He did not know what it was and he did not know if it would ever be the same again.

"Why?" He whispered into the night, "Why?"

"Because I needed you," Elawin called from over his shoulder.

Timothee turned around. To his disbelief, to his shock he was staring at the very woman who he had just witnessed fall to her peril. Her cool glacial blue eyes locked with his and her pale skin soaked up the moon light.

"I saw you fall," Timothee muttered.

"You did," Elawin answered.

"You died," Timothee said.

Elawin shook her head, "No."

Timothee felt a sudden pull in the pit of his stomach as his surroundings suddenly pulled away from him. His body rocked back as if he had been hit by a bull. His head snapped up against the back of a chair and he felt a pain run down his spine. Opening his eyes he saw an old tarnished chandelier suspended on a high buttressed ceiling. Just next to the golden framework was a large hole in the ceiling where a large full moon slowly crept into view.

Clouds of breathe plumed from his mouth and his heart raced in his chest. He wheezed for air and winced when the pangs of a headache hit him. Rolling his head forward, he tried to rub his eyes but his hand did not come. Looking over, he saw frayed ropes wrapped endlessly around his wrists, binding him to the arms of a wooden chair.

He shook his bound arms and legs causing the chair to groan and creek but it did not free him from their grasp.

"Child," A woman's voice called in the dark.

Timothee looked around the dimly lit surroundings. The room was immense with high stone walls that were falling apart with snowdrifts creeping in. The floors had rotted planks of wood and the wind howled as it rushed in and out of the empty room. There was an elevated stage where a throne sat next to a crushed pile of wood and velvet.

"Who's there?" Timothee called as a black figure slowly approached him in the shadows. "Who are you?"

"Who am I?" The voice said as soft as snow, "But you know who I am."

The black figure slowly entered the moonlight that streamed in from the hole in the ceiling, her eyes were blue like the Caribbean ocean, her skin the color of the high moon and her hair was black like earthen oil. She wore a black dress that was long and flowing, covered in an ornate lattice as if it were some sort of grim wedding dress.

"Elawin?" Timothee said.

"It is I," She answered.

"But you…you fell! I saw it, I saw your body. You were dead!" Timothee shouted, jerking his body to fight the restraints.

Elawin stood from her throne, "It is hard to kill what cannot die."

In a blur she was standing in front of him, her two long finger nails danced over the top of his hand. Timothee watched as goose bumps rippled over his flesh. Her touch was frigid like the night air and felt like ice against the back of his hand.

Elawin grinned revealing two long pearlescent fangs.

"You're a vampire!" Timothee realized a loud.

Elawin nodded her head ever so slowly. Her head swayed from side to side as if the empty hall was still filled with melodic tunes of days gone by. She was so graceful with no move appearing impulsive or clumsy. She reminded Timothee of a feather falling from the sky.

Timothee locked his brown and green eyes with hers, "But what do you want with me?"

Elawin eyes shined, "Let me show you."

She leaned forward, her white fangs glowing in the night. Timothee leaned back and hunched his shoulders to protect his neck but his guard faded.

Her hands blurred and Timothee found himself with his head forced up towards the ceiling with Elawin's thumbs pressing into his forehead. There was a sudden falling feeling as the ceiling above pulled away. Everything began to fade to black before a new room rushed up towards him.

The walls of this new room were painted with beautiful Roman frescos of magical creatures, legendary items and famous wizards. Spidery cracks ran throughout the entire room like shattered glass. Timothee was standing and no longer bound to the chair. He took a step and water sloshed under his feet. Everything in the room was soaked with water damage streak marks.

House elves worked tirelessly within the room as they restored damaged paintings and squeezed water logged rags into buckets.

Timothee's attention was drawn to a man sitting behind a desk with his hands folded before him. He was wearing an expensive midnight three piece suit with the most intense red and gold tie that was looped into a complex Merovingian knot. His hair was jet black and slicked back while his face was shaved impeccably clean. His features were sharp and angular with an olive skin tone. It looked as if a single hair was to fall out of place, his entire appearance would be shattered.

"Is it in there?" The man asked. His Italian accent stressed and strained his English words.

"It is Venetian," Elawin answered, standing in front of the desk.

"Bene," The Venetian said, "Then I will get it. A weapon so powerful it will change the world."

Elawin whispered, "Oh but it is so much more."

A house elf approached the side of the desk and bowed, "Master, you have guests."

The Venetian waved the elf away. He turned back to Elawin, "The book will confirm your conviction."

Elawin bowed, touched a large ring on her finger and vanished. Just then the door behind Timothee opened. He turned to see Samuel and a wizard walk through the door being lead by a house elf.

"Dad?" He whispered.

The room began to spin around Timothee faster and faster until everything became unrecognizable. Becoming nauseatingly dizzy, Timothee fell back and landed in a wooden chair as a tune began to play. The room began to slow and objects became recognizable again.

Jazz music played from a ten foot mural with a nameplate that read, "Miles Duke and the Brass Whizbees." Their brass trumpets squealed while another man in the painting leaned far back with a saxophone and belted out an energetic solo.

Witches and wizards all sat in the high class restaurant listening to the jazz as they ate their candle lit dinners. Timothee overheard a wizard at the table behind him say something in French.

House elves darted this way and that with large platters held over their head. Their short stature made it look as if the silver platters were floating around the restaurant delivering fresh breads and fine meats.

Timothee felt the entire restaurant shutter as everyone leaned to one side. He looked out a window and watched as farmland passed by at an astonishing rate.

"We aren't in a building," Timothee realized, "We are in a train car in France!"

"Un Hemotini!" A house elf said. A small hand with a blue ring grabbed a large wide mouthed glass and slid it onto the table in front of Timothee.

He looked down at the thick crimson drink with the unmistakable look of blood.

A slender hand wrapped around the crystal stem and pulled the drink away.

"Elawin," Timothee said, looking over at the woman sitting next to him.

There was a loud crack, on the far end of the room as a group of wizards not wearing the fine dress of those in the restaurant suddenly appeared.

"Is that," Timothee whispered, his heart quickening, "Dad? And Vert… and Samuel?"

They were accompanied by a girl he had seen pictures of in Samuel's house. He watched as they pointed to the far end of the train car and began to make their way over.

"Dad!" Timothee shouted. He stood from his chair and ran towards them, cutting off their path.

"Dad it's me! You're son Timothee!" He yelled, but the group walked through him like a ghost passing through the world of the living. They continued on their way to the other side of the train car.

Timothee watched them as they exchanged words with a finely dressed man sitting in a booth. It was the Venetian again.

"Why are you showing me this?" Timothee realized.

Timothee's body was jerked back, pulled from the memory and back into the chair in the broken down castle. The sudden rush was overwhelming and Timothee found himself breathing heavily to stave his queasiness.

"What does it all mean?" Timothee heaved.

A fire lit in Elawin's eyes, "You're father made a bargain! To deliver something of great importance and you know what he did? He kept it for himself!"

"Never!" Timothee contested.

Elawin turned her back to Timothee, "He did and now I will retrieve it from you if you don't tell me where it is?"

"How can I help you find what you are looking for if I don't even know what it is?"

"The stone Partée," Elawin growled.

"What stone?" Timothee asked.

"Don't play dumb with me boy!" Elawin barked, "You're father made a bargain with the Venetian. Three objects for his brother's freedom. The Bracer of Hercules, a time turner and the Stone of Morgana. He delivered the first two but the last never made it."

"I don't know what you are talking about!"

"The Stone of Morgana!"

"I've never seen it before," Timothee pleaded.

Elawin's body became a blur of motion and Timothee found his head held in the vice grip of Elawin's hands as she looked into his eyes, "Witchaven will sleep for a hundred years if you do not give me what I ask. They will be nothing but bones and dust and I will take everything you love and tear your world to the ground!"

"You already did that when you tricked me into saving you!" Timothee fired back.

"It was nothing more than simple allure you stupid boy," Elawin snarled.

Her eyes began to glow and her pupils dilated as she growled, "Legilimens!"

Chapter 24

The Green Flash

"Abigail?" Archie asked.

Abigail patted herself down and shook her head "no."

Archie turned his head, "Theo?"

Theo plunged his hands into his pockets and turned them inside out creating two white bunny ears at his hips.

"Well that's just great. They took the key and the pen," Archie sighed, "I don't think we will be much help getting out of this place Mr. Spoon."

Daniel closed his eyes and rested his forehead against a rusted bar, "Don't worry, they took my spoon as well. Pesky half beasts are clever little gits."

"Half beasts?" Archie asked.

"The two goblins that brought me here," Daniel explained.

Theo approached the bars of his cell, "They didn't happen to be Troblins by any chance? Half goblin and half troll?"

"You could say that," Daniel said, he leaned away from the bars and scratched his gruffy beard.

"They got us too," Abigail added, "They swapped our Wizergen with sleeping potion. How did you end up in here?"

Daniel shook his head and turned away, "It wasn't the Troblins that got me. It was the Dark Phoenix, the death made eternal."

"Who is this Dark Phoenix?" Theo asked, "You said she has Timothee?"

Daniel sighed and turned around, "She is a ruthless vampire with her beauty only surpassed by her magical prowess. I always thought she was more of a bogeyman than an actual being. It wasn't until she came for us that I realized she was real.

My brother Oliver and I were trying to fence a few Occamy egg shells to a collector from Persia when she arrived. She turned the Merchant into a beetle, turned one of the Persian's bodyguards into a pile of ash and as for the other bodyguard, he was dinner to put it lightly."

Daniel closed his eyes as a look of incomprehensible pain erupted on his face, "She…" He started but paused to swallow, "She asked which one of us was Oliver and before I could answer my big brother stepped forward claiming to be Daniel. I didn't understand why he answered as me until she hit him with the green flash. It was as simple as one would use a lifting charm. You see Oliver knew what was coming and it was the only way he could save me one last time."

A tear ran down Daniel's gaunt cheek leaving a clean straight line through the soot and dirt on his face, "It was only after combing through my mind did she realize that I was Daniel and that she had killed my brother Oliver. To this day I don't know why she let me live. Maybe to let me exist in my misery or maybe I am too broken for her to even waste the energy?"

Abigail stepped closer to the bars, "If you don't mind me asking, what is the green flash?"

"It's the Avada," Daniel whispered lowering his head, "The killing curse."

"Oh," Abigail consoled, "I'm sorry."

Daniel gripped the bars in front of him, his hands turning white and trembling. His jaw clenched and a vein began to pulse in his forehead, "I swear by Merlin and every witch and wizard under the Sun, the Moon and the Stars that she will pay for what she did! She will bleed every last drop of blood she has stolen from this world and I will be there when all her long days come to an end!" Looking up his brown eyes had a new life in them as he said with gritted teeth, "I swear."

"Keep it down!" A high pitched squeal called from the top of the stairs leading out the dungeon.

"Yeah, before we have to go down there and give you punishment!" said another high pitched voice.

"That's right Thistle! We give the punishment now!"

Archie turned to the others, "Thorne and Thistle?"

Daniel pressed his face to the bars, "Agh! You Twits come down here and I have half a mind to show you both what punishment really looks like!"

There were two sudden puffs of smoke and the two Troblins were standing in the walk way between the two cells.

Thorne's half ear bobbed up and down as he cocked his head to one side and grinned, "Oh really?"

"Come on then!" Daniel yelled, "Give me my spoon and let's have us a proper duel!"

Thistle's black beady eyes became enraged as he reached into his black vest and whipped out his Pine wand, "Crucio!"

Daniel's body straightened as if he had been struck by a bolt of lightning. He fell to the ground writhing in pain.

"Hey! Stop that!" Abigail yelled, "You're hurting him!"

"Stop!" Theo shouted.

"Please!" Archie begged, "No more!"

Thorne turned with a toothy grin, "I should give you punishment as well!" Reaching into his vest pocket he pulled out his Hawthorne wand and pointed it at the teenagers.

Archie, Abigail, and Theo took a step away from the bars.

"That's better," Thorne hissed.

Thistle released the curse and Daniel lay on the ground panting unable to move.

"Pain," Thistle whispered through his gritted sharp rows of teeth.

Daniel placed a hand on the stone ground and attempted to lift himself up. His arm trembled as he put his weight on it and he wheezed for air as he got himself to one knee.

Archie leaned over to Theo, "Did you see it?"

"See what?" He asked.

"When Thorne was reaching for his wand I saw Timothee's rings under his vest."

"Do you think they have the others?" Theo whispered back.

"I don't know."

Theo turned to Abigail who was already winding up like a pitcher. Her fist fired forward and all the dust, dirt, debris and moldy hay were sent in a tsunami of energy hitting the troblins in the back and slamming them into the metal bars.

Something metal "clinked!" against the stone floor and skid into Daniel's cell.

Reaching down he grabbed a black tarnished skeleton key and held it up.

"Quick, throw it here!" Abigail urged.

Thorne and Thistle remained in a heap against the metal cell door as the ornate skeleton key flew over head and landed in Abigail's outstretched hands.

Daniel limped over to the unconscious troblins and dove his hands into their pockets pulling out a pen, an old silver spoon, and two gold rings on a chain.

Abigail scrambled to the cell door and felt around for the key hole on the other side. Grabbing her key with the other hand she maneuvered it into place.

"Abigail what are you doing?" Archie said.

Abigail closed her eyes and the key slid right into the cell door key hole. Whispering, "Open Sesami" she turned the key and the cell door "clunked!" before swinging open.

"Yes!" Theo whispered as he followed Abigail out of the cell door.

Abigail opened Daniel's cell using the same opening charm. She lifted the key into the moonlight, "It's a family heirloom passed down for generations."

"Why didn't you ever tell us before?" Archie said mystified.

Abigail inspected the Veela hair around her key, "It's kind of a family secret. Otherwise everyone would be after it."

"I thought your parents were muggles?" Theo asked.

"They are," Abigail answered, "But my grandmother was a witch."

"Ready to go get your friend?" Daniel asked.

"Let's go!" Theo replied.

"Wait, one thing!" Archie said running over to the two unconscious troblins. He grabbed their wands and cracked them over his knee, "This way they can't hurt anyone else."

"Good thinking! Now let's go get Timothee!" Abigail said.

Chapter 25

Escape

Timothee sat on a broom high above the Pursang quidditch pitch waving his fingers about like a conductor as his classmates sung in the stands below:

"Haut sur une montagne vierge.

Nous surplombons la vallée verdoyante.

École des licornes d'argent.

Chère, chère Pursang, nous vous aimons!"

Camille Pétain flew over on her broom, the baby blue quidditch robes fluttering behind her as she pulled up next to Timothee with a grin from ear to ear. Her hair was platinum and she had thick brown eyebrows that contrasted her complexion. On her robes the silver crest of a unicorn glistened in the sun. She held up a leather gloved hand and tossed the golden snitch to Timothee.

Timothee snatched the snitch from the air and held it in his open palm with the willow like wings flapping ever so gracefully. The golden orb seemed to coo in his hands like a small bird.

Timothee looked up from the snitch, "I've never seen a game end so quickly."

"I just got lucky I guess," Camille said.

"That's the second match that you've ended in under a minute. The scoreboards were still zero. I didn't get a chance to knock any of those Beau-brats off their brooms."

Camille chuckled, "Then you play chaser and we can have a five day match."

"Hey!" Timothee laughed, "I'm not that bad at chaser."

Camille hunched her shoulders, "If you say."

A light breeze kicked up and Timothee looked around the cheering stadium as all his classmates waved banners and jumped up and down in celebration. They sang the school's anthem proudly as they watched the defeated Beauxbatons in their gold robes fly off the pitch.

"It feels so good to be back at Pursang," he thought. Looking back down at the snitch he was surprised to see a large blue opal stone resting in his palm. Inside the stone were iridescent glimmers of cobalt, black and violet of innumerable shades and intensities. It was absolutely breathtaking how many colors could be contained in just one stone.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Elawin's voice asked.

Timothee looked up from stone just as Elawin came rushing towards him. Putting up his hands to protect himself he fell from his broom and into a freefall before landing back in the chair in the throne room.

Timothee shook his head, "Why do you keep doing this?"

"It's in there," Elawin replied, "I just need to find it."

"I swear I have never seen that stone in my life!" Timothee answered, "Please just let me go."

"Not until I have what is owed!" Elawin said before placing her hands back on Timothee's head and pressing her thumbs into his forehead, "I must go deeper!"

She locked eyes with him and casted, "Legilimuns!"

Timothee felt himself fall deeper and deeper as the world around him faded to black. When he opened his eyes he was surrounded by painted white wooden bars in every direction. A crib mobile spun in small circles overhead with plush shooting stars making small concentric orbits silently in the darkness.

"I've seen this room before?" He thought, "This is my room back in Paris. This is my grandmother's house."

Rolling over, he was face to face with the plush bear he had befriended his entire life, newer than he had looked in over a decade.

"Ursa you look new? How old am I?" He wondered, sitting up and examining his tiny pink hands.

There was a soft puff at the edge of the crib and two green eyes stared down at him.

Timothee felt a sudden wave of fear and began to whimper.

"Shhh," A familiar voice hushed and walked over, placing a small hand on Timothee's shoulder. His floppy ears were tucked under his bowler hat and he wore a blue auror's robe with a gold flur-de-lis on the chest. The smell of burnt wood and smoke was overly saturated in his clothes and ash dirtied the house elf's clothing.

"Vert?" Timothee said between light sobs.

"There there now. Don't be frightened," Vert whispered. He grabbed two rings from his pocket and pulled them out. Handing the rings to the small infant he said, "Édouard and Christiane. They are gone."

Timothee held the rings in his tiny child sized hands and tapped them together.

"They also wanted you to have this," Vert said, holding up a large blue iridescent opal.

"The stone," A voice echoed distantly in hushed excitement.

Vert held up the Stone of Morgana, "They loved you more than you will ever imagine. Everything they did was for family and because we are family, I will never leave your side."

Timothee felt himself jerk violently from the memory and into the grand hall of the crumbling castle. The warmth he had felt in the crib vanished and was now replaced by a cold howling wind. The smell of smoke still lingered even if it was only just a memory.

"The elf!" Elawin shrieked, "It was always with the elf!"

"Hey, you!" A voice called from over Timothee's shoulder.

Elawin's piercing blue eyes looked up as a bright red blast hit her in the chest and sent her flying into the throne twenty feet back. There was a loud crash as the wooden throne crumpled into cinders.

Footsteps rushed closer from behind him. He turned his head but locked in the chair he could not see.

"Timothee!" Abigail called out.

"Abigail?" he yelled back. He tried frantically to free himself from the chair but it would not break.

Abigail, Archie and Theo all ran to his side.

Timothee smiled close to tears as he blurted out, "Oh am I happy to see you guys!"

"No time for a reunion chaps! We need to get out of here!" Daniel said.

The pile of wood exploded as Elawin cam rocketing out of it towards them, her blue eyes burned bright as a gnarled white wand was pointed at them like a spear of charging cavalry.

"Lumos Maxima!" Daniel casted from the top of his lungs.

Light filled every corner of the room and Timothee's vision when white. There was a screaming hiss from Elawin that flew over head and continued on behind him.

"Quick!" Daniel ordered, "Everyone grab Timothee!"

Timothee felt hands grab his forearms and a hand rest against his shoulder. There was a sudden feeling of spinning, flipping and shrinking before a loud crack boomed in his ears.

Chapter 26

We need to go back!

Timothee eyes opened to an old brown wooden buttressed ceiling where dozens of cages hung from stilted struts. He closed his eyes and took a few more deep breathes before opening them again. His head hurt and his body felt exhausted as if he had sprinted for miles.

"He's up," Theo said and walked over.

"Where," Timothee began but his mind was too foggy to produce a clear thought. Turning his head to the side, he watched the pink and orange colors of a new day, "Or was it the end of a day?" He couldn't tell.

"Hey there Tim," Theo said, taking a seat at the foot of the bed that Timothee rested on, "How are you feeling? Daniel said you might be a little out of it."

"We," Timothee whispered but the ability to put a complete sentence together or to generate a whole thought eluded him. He closed his eyes and tried to focus through the murkiness that clouded his mind, "We… need…" He took a few more breathes, "We need to get back," and attempted to sit up.

"Easy there," Abigail hushed. She placed a hand on his shoulder and he collapsed back onto the bed completely exhausted.

Timothee saw Abigail and Theo but there was no sign of the others, "Where?"

"Archie and Daniel?" Abigail interpreted.

Timothee nodded.

"Getting Wizergen," Theo answered, "We can't go back to Witchaven without it."

"What," Timothee started but he couldn't complete his thought. He knew what he wanted to say but the words to convey his thoughts were hard to find. Pressing his eyes shut he grit his teeth and exhaled, "What… about… the ministry?"

"The ministry of Magic?" Theo repeated, making sure he had heard correctly.

Timothee bobbed his head.

Theo grabbed a large brown clay mug filled with water from a nightstand and held it to Timothee's lips to drink, "Daniel said it is a risk if we go to them because we aren't supposed to be practicing magic. They could very well lock us up. He knows a few witches and wizards that could help but he would need more time if we were to ask them."

The cool water felt good going down Timothee's throat. He thirstily slurped down the entire brown mug and the haze that loomed over his head began to lift.

Theo unwrapped a small chocolate snitch and handed it to Timothee, "Daniel said this would help."

The milk chocolate was sweet and tasty as it warmed in his mouth and became more malleable. Energy began to course through his veins and so Timothee pressed his hands into the enormous bed and began to sit up.

"Hey, easy," Abigail persisted.

"ca va," Timothee whispered, "really, it's okay."

"Here let me help then," Abigail nodded and hooked an arm under Timothee to help him up. Abigail supported his weight with her arm and Timothee noticed that he was in a small one hexagonal cottage. Gourds hung from the ceiling and there was a fireplace next to the bed where a black tea kettle hissed over a fire. Random items were scattered about and in the center was a wooden table that was rather tall. In fact the bed he was laying in was large enough to fit someone three if not four times his size. Discovering this repeating pattern Timothee felt as if he was in the home of a giant.

Timothee peered outside a square window were he saw a small garden of enormous pumpkins and high up on a green hill was a large stone castle. There were tall rounded keeps with tall cone shaped roofs, "Where are we?"

"It's a hideout," Theo explained, "A grounds keeper smuggled us in. You should have seen him!"

"Who?" Timothee asked.

"The grounds keeper. He must have been eight feet tall with a great big beard. He was the only one who could free you from those ropes that bound you to the chair."

Abigail reached into her pocket and pulled out two gold bands strung on a silver chain, "These are yours."

Timothee took the rings and held them in his palm. He spent a long time staring at the ring with the red ruby.

Theo placed a hand on Timothee's shoulder, "Daniel said the Dark Phoenix would have dug in your mind? He called it Legilimency I think."

Timothee closed his hand around the rings, "Her name is Elawin and she was looking into my memories."

"What did you see?" Abigail asked.

"She showed me these memories. I don't know if they were real or not but I think my dad may not have been the person I thought he was…"

"Look," Theo interjected, "The Dark Phoenix wanted you to see those things to hurt you. To break you down. What was she after?"

"It's a stone," Timothee answered, "She is looking for the Stone of Morgana. Have you guys heard of it?"

Abigail and Theo shook their head no.

"I think it is some kind of weapon and she wants it. My dad was supposed to deliver it to some wizard named the Venetian. I think it is the reason why my parents died. I don't know, everything is scrambled together."

The entrance to the cottage opened and Archie and Daniel walked in.

"The sleeping prince awakes," Daniel said. He walked over to the tall wooden dining table and placed a bag onto it, "Wizergen from Diagon Alley and a few odds and sods for Archie boy."

"What kind of things?" Abigail asked.

"Peruvian Instant Darkness powder," Archie said holding up a black rock, "A long with a few other items."

"Daniel we need to get back," Timothee insisted.

"In good time," Daniel assured.

"We don't have time. Elawin told me she was going to make everyone in Witchaven sleep for a hundred years!" Timothee said.

"That's quite the nap," Daniel noted, "Wait is her name actually Elawin?"

Timothee shook his head, "She says they will be nothing but bones if we don't give her the stone."

"Stone of Morgana," Daniel said.

"You've heard of it?" Timothee asked.

"No," Daniel answered, "She was tearing through my head looking for the same thing."

Abigail stood from the bed, "Guys, hold on, even if we get to Witchaven we still have no idea how to undo the curse."

Archie placed the darkness powder in his pocket, "Mr. Spoon and I were talking earlier."

"Daniel," the older wizard corrected.

"Sorry," Archie said, "Mr. Daniel was telling me of an enchanted harp that could put you to sleep."

"So we need to find a harp?" Theo asked.

"It could be," Archie added, "All I know is that it is probably an enchanted object, maybe something music related."

Abigail raised her hand, "How do we find it?"

"Well I was thinking that we could split up and search the town. Abigail and I could search the school music room while Theo and Timothee could search town hall steeple. There are bells up there that play every day."

"And what should I do?" Daniel asked.

"Keep a lookout for the Dark Phoenix," Archie said, "If she comes for either of us, we will send up sparks."

Daniel nodded, "Got it."

"Wait, wait, wait," Theo insisted, "What do we do if we actually find this thing and how is that going to help us defeat this Dark Phoenix?"

"Elawin, her name is Elawin," Timothee said.

"Okay. How does this help us stop Elawin?"

Daniel started to hand out two vials of Wizergen, "She has kept off the ministry's radar for decades now. I bet if a bunch of muggles see a vampire and the ministry catches wind of it that might not be the kind of attention she is looking for. I think you undo that sleeping spell and she high tails it out of there."

"And so if we find this enchanted object what then?" Theo asked.

"Destroy it," Archie answered.

Theo hunched his shoulders, "But how?"

"Reducto," Timothee cut in, "It should breakdown anything of size."

"Incendio could do the trick," Daniel added, "Fire and enchanted objects don't mix well. You just need to be careful if you are in a school though."

"Or not," Abigail smirked.

"Careful," Archie stressed.

Abigail shook her head innocently, "I was just kidding."

Daniel slapped his thighs, "Well chaps, sounds like we have a plan. Let's get out of here."

"Should we come together to apparate?" Theo asked.

"Won't work," Daniel said.

"Why not?" Theo wondered.

"Can't apparate out of school grounds, that's why I brought us here. Hagrid and I go way back, that's why he let us stay. If we want to apparate then we need to go into the Dark Forest."

"School grounds? Where are we?" Timothee asked.

Daniel pointed to the tall castle on top of the hill, "That there is Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."


	7. Partee Child Part 7

Chapter 27

Witchaven

Timothee felt his feet land on the soft forest floor as a loud crack reverberated throughout the birch tree forest of Witchaven, New York.

They stood at the ready with their various wands held outstretched in their hands as they scanned the endless stalks of white skeleton trees. A low summer mist hugged the ground and high above through the canopy of green leaves, aurora borealis danced in the starry sky. The moon, large and full, crept over the horizon tinted green, purple and red by the northern lights.

"Do you see anything?" Archie whispered.

"Nothing," Timothee answered, his eyes hunting for the slightest movements.

"There is no time to waste then, let's move," Daniel said.

"Town is this way," Theo pointed with his illuminated pen.

They kept in a tight nit pack as they approached the town which was lit by the orange glow of street lights. Townsfolk still stood like statues as they rested in the midst of everyday life.

"Even the bloody crickets are asleep," Daniel whispered, taking a step onto the main road. It felt as if the entire world had fallen silent, so quiet that they could hear themselves breathing and their hearts beating.

Timothee pointed his ringed hand towards the tall white slatted steeple a few blocks away, "Town hall is that way!"

"Okay, let's split up," Archie said, "The school is only a few blocks behind us."

Timothee turned to Theo and saw Elawin's face instead. In a feather down voice she whispered, "Child…"

He shook his head in disbelief and grabbed his rings as Theo's face returned to him.

"Are you alright?" Abigail asked.

"She's here," Timothee shouted, "She's here!"

Daniel's head darted this way and that with his spoon held forward.

Theo held up his illuminated pen frantically searching the sleeping faces, "I can't tell which one is her!"

"What do we do?" Abigail asked, her skeleton key gripped tightly in her hands.

"There!" Timothee yelled and pointed back towards the school.

A woman in a black dress was walking down the center of the street towards them with two smaller figures behind her. The ears of the Troblins bobbed up and down as they followed in tow. There was no hesitation, no fear in her stride.

Daniel pointed his spoon towards her, "Looks like we are in for a proper fight."

"Remember the plan," Archie said, "We need to find the enchanted object."

The black Vampress stopped only twenty feet away, "Give me the Partée child and I will let the rest of you live. Get in my way and you will all perish… or worst."

Daniel took a step forward, "Oy, hag! I reckon we broke your little monsters wands so that makes it four against one! After what you did to my brother, I'll have you begging for sunlight when I am through with you!"

Elawin grinned, her ice blue eyes glowing in the pale moon light. Raising both her hands over the troblins on either side of her, she whispered, "Engorgio."

The troblins shuttered, shimmied and shook as their bodies started to swell and grow up towards the night sky.

Thorne turned to Thistle as their height exceeded their master's. His voice transforming from tenor to bass as he cackled, "Look at us now Thistle!"

"Look at us now Thorne!" Thistle roared back. Now at fifteen feet his voice resembled that of a sousaphone. His long clawed fingers were over a foot long and his ears were the size of flags. An enormous protruding gut hung out of his tight stretched clothes and his pink fleshy skin had an oily sheen to it.

"We're in barney," Daniel muttered, "I'll try and hold them as long as I can."

"Time to go!" Archie ordered.

Timothee and Theo took off towards the town hall while Abigail and Archie sprinted in the opposite direction towards Witchaven High.

"Get them," Elawin hissed.

Thorne roared, his half ear shook and globs of slobber spewed from his mouth. The ground trembled under the pounding strides of the two fifteen foot troblins as they thundered off in different directions after the teen wizards.

Daniel, alone with Elawin, gripped his spoon in his right hand and stared down the dark witch. Simultaneously the wizard and witch whipped their wands around and casted spells which arced a bright beam of light that crackled, hissed and spewed magical energy.

Chapter 28

Witchaven High

"Alohomora!" Abigail screamed, wildly waving her key through the air. She darted up the steps of Witchaven High two at a time and barged through the brown metal double doors. Archie was close behind her, his face red and his glasses askew on his face.

A menacing giant clawed hand rifled through the doorway of the high school missing the teens by inches. There was an ear piercing screech as Thistle's claws ground into the tiled floor and pulled back.

Abigail looked over her shoulder as the large triangular head of Thistle peered through the double doors. His black eyes were the size of eight balls and his mouth was filled with the triangular serrated teeth the size of great white shark teeth.

"Come here!" Thistle roared. Getting down on his enormous gut and tried to crawl into the foyer of the school. The enormous troblin got stuck on the metal beam that partitioned the two swinging doors and was forced to retreat back into the darkness of night.

Archie's chest bobbed up and down as he fought for breath. Both his hands were resting on his knees and his face was flush red with beads of sweat, "I feel like we've been here before!"

Abigail tugged at Archie's shoulder, "The music room isn't too far! Follow me Arch!"

The two teens ran through the empty halls until they came to a room that was connected to the side of the auditorium. Rows of chairs surrounded a podium and cases of instruments were lined against the walls. A piano was in one corner of the room and a white drape was resting over a tall triangular object.

"What now?" Abigail said looking around the room, "There are so many instruments!"

"There!" Archie yelled pointing to the black piano in the corner of the room, "Start there!"

Abigail pointed her key and shouted, "Reducto!"

The long black grand piano made a grotesque sound as the strings inside snapped free and the wood splintered into thousands of pieces.

Archie ran over to a tall white cover and pulled it back revealing a beautiful ornate harp with the carved figure of a mermaid, "This next!"

Abigail turned her key and hesitated.

"What are you waiting for?" Archie screamed, "The troblin could be here at any moment!"

Abigail closed her eyes, "Reducto!"

The harp detonated before their eyes. Strings twinged and twanged before there was nothing left but a pile of jagged splinters.

"Did it work?" Abigail asked, "Is the curse gone?"

Archie ran to the window and looked outside towards the sky. Auroras still danced in the heavens, "No it didn't. Let's open some of the instrument cases next."

A massive hand plunged through the music room window and wrapped its long fingers around Archie. Abigail turned her head and fell backwards as shards of glass flew towards her face.

"Abigail!" Were the last words Archie was able to scream before he vanished.

Abigail rolled onto her stomach, got to her feet and darted around the doorway just out of sight.

"Come out! Come out! Wherever you are! Before I squish your friend into jelly!" Thistle beckoned.

Archie let out a horrifying scream of agony which was cut short as all the air crushed out of him.

"Think Abigail! Think!" She whispered through gritted teeth. She peered around the corner and saw Archie with the enormous hand wrapped around his torso. His face went from red to purple as the grip on him tightened.

Turning away, she hit the back of her head against the wall, "Think!" Looking down at her leg, she saw a small wet spot over her pocket and plunged her hand in pulling out a small blue vial of Wizergen. She held the vial in her hands and closed her eyes before they snapped open, "I got it!"

Chapter 29

Town Hall

"Watch out!" Theo yelled, diving over the top of a car hood with Timothee close behind.

Thorne's muscled arm ripped over the teens' heads and tore a fire hydrant clear out of the ground. A jet of water fired from the hole in the ground like a geyser and blasted the giant troblin in the face knocking him into a candy red 1957 Chevy truck. The truck crumpled like tin foil and let out a dying honk before the wheels hissed and popped like gunfire from the weight.

Theo pointed to the roundabout at the end of the block, "We're almost there!"

"We'll never make it!" Timothee shouted, getting to his feet and continuing down the sidewalk. He dodged the statuesque townsfolk who fell victim to the curse.

"Onto the road!" Theo urged, "We can't let anyone get trampled!"

Behind the teen wizards, Thorne roared as he got back to his feet. The troblin picked up the crushed truck and launched it into the forest.

"Get back here boys!" He boomed. The ground shook, cars jumped in place and storefront windows rattled as the troblin charged down the road like a bull elephant.

Timothee fired a leg locker curse over his shoulder but the spell bounced off the large troblin and disappeared into the night in a red orb of light.

Theo casted a spell only this time a blue orb hit the Troblin in the face and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

"Nothing is working!" Theo cried.

"At the same time!" Timothee shouted between breathes.

"What are we casting?" Theo yelled.

"Let's hit him with sparks!" Timothee answered.

"Right Now!" Timothee said and the two teens spun around and both fired blue and red sparks.

"My eyes!" Thorne roared and clawed frantically as the embers of the sparks hissed and crackled.

"That bought us a second!" Theo wheezed.

They reached the town hall and barged through the entrance pushing the sleeping mayor out of the way. The building had an old colonial lobby with wood pattern floors, a few leather sofas, and a secretary's desk where a woman in a navy dress slept. There were two halls that branched off to the left and right lined with office doors.

Timothee looked left and right down the empty hallways, "The bell tower! How do we get to the bell tower?"

"I don't know!" Theo panicked, "There should be stairs on the far side of one of these hallways!"

"I go left and you go right!" Timothee ordered and the two teens sprinted in opposite directions.

Timothee scanned the doors as he ran passed them looking for any sign of a stairwell. The walls had white and blue patterned wallpaper and old colonial paintings were placed in between each office door. The doors themselves were decorated with brass nameplates of elected officials and council members.

With his legs strained and his lungs burning, Timothee spotted the brass name plate labeled "Stairwell" and barged into it. He pulled himself up the stairwell until he reached the third floor and all but fell through it.

There must have been a stairwell on the opposite hall because Theo appeared in the opposite wing. The wing was nearly identical to the first floor only instead of a doorway at the junction of the two wings, there was a large glass window where moonlight flooded in.

Theo and Timothee jogged towards each other, meeting in front of the window. Timothee looked out at the full moon in the sky before turning back to Theo who was breathing at a mile a minute.

"The steeple?" Theo gasped, "There has to be a way to the steeple!"

"Where is the steeple on the town hall?" Timothee asked.

"Right above us," Theo said and pointed towards the ceiling.

They looked up simultaneously and saw a rectangular outline on the white ceiling above.

"It's a door!" Theo said.

The bright moonlight that filled the room suddenly vanished in shadow. Timothee looked towards the window just as the giant burnt face of Thorne pressed against the glass. He had black streaks around his eyes and his breath fogged the glass.

"Get back here boys!" Thorne bellowed and shattered the glass as he ripped his way into the hallway.

Timothee and Theo dove out of reach as a great clawed hand swiped for them.

Thorne clawed his way into the hallway and rose to his feet. He was too tall to stand straight up and was forced to crane his neck at a jarring angle. Globs of drool poured from his mouth, "I will tear you limb from limb. Forget the master! It ends tonight!"

Theo raised his pen but the large hand of the troblin swatted the teen and launched him into the wall. His body fell to the ground and remained still. Before Timothee could react, Thorne had him in his grasp. His long claws digging into his back, the strength of his fingers squeezing the breath out of his lungs.

"Maybe I eat the boy, Thistle?" Thorne said. His large head craned left and then right before he chuckled, "I forgot he's not here."

Opening his mouth, Timothee was horrified to see two rows of white dagger like teeth coming towards him. He tried to set himself free but found that he was trapped, locked as the giant mouth came closer and closer.

Chapter 30

Witchaven High

Abigail opened the emergency doors near the cafeteria that lead to the athletic fields where students in the midst of a soccer game slept. She watched as the massive troblin tramped around the school grounds peering through windows with a helpless Archie in his grasp.

Abigail tucked back her green lock of hair before shouting, "Hey! You!"

Thistles ears perked up before his large onyx eyes locked on Abigail.

"The girl!" Thistle growled.

"Abi… Run!" Archie wheezed before falling unconscious

Abigail dropped the empty vial of Wizergen she had been holding and pulled out her skeleton key. Winding it up, she fired a purple wave of energy towards Thistle who dodged it and dropped Archie onto the grassy field. The troblin howled and took off towards Abigail in a full sprint.

Abigail felt the ground shake under her feet as the fifteen foot behemoth dashed her way, snarling and growling as it steamed towards her. It closed the distance faster than she could have ever imagined. The black eyes of the troblin glistened in the full moonlight as its' long protracted claws were drawn.

"Here goes nothing!" Abigail thought to herself as she dropped stomach first onto the floor. She felt the rush of wind as something massive passed over her head at a blinding speed.

"No!" Thistle screamed as a large black ball of fur hit the troblin in the chest and launched him backwards. The cool summer night air was filled with the bone chilling howl of a werewolf. It was Vance, only he was in the nightmare form that the full moon brought about.

It was a ferocious fight as the fury of Vance was fully unleashed on the gigantic troblin. Abigail sprinted passed the battle of fur and flesh and ran to Archie's side, "Arch are you okay?"

Archie nodded as color returned to his face and became conscious. He looked around dazed and bewildered before finally coming to his senses, "I am okay, I am okay."

There was a bone crushing crunch and Abigail and Archie turned just in time to see Vance's jaws warped around the hand of Thistle. The troblin howled a blood curdling scream before fighting to free his hand. Working his fingers in between the long fangs, Thistles hand came free. The giant fell back and rolled before taking off towards the woods cradling his injury.

The tall powerful werewolf trotted over to them, his eyes glowing yellow and black blood smeared around his snout.

Archie took a step back, "Vance? Is that you?"

The black werewolf with a red stripe down his back sniffed a few times and lowered his head.

Archie dropped his shoulders, "Thank Merlin."

The werewolf continued to sniff in the air until something caught his attention.

"What is it?" Abigail asked.

The tall werewolf stood on his back legs and it was only then that Archie was reminded of how truly tall he was. Landing back on all fours, the werewolf began to gallop back towards town.

"What is it?" Abigail asked again but Vance just turned his head back and motioned for them to follow.

Archie turned to Abigail, "I guess we should follow him?"

"Unless you can think of something better!" Abigail said and the two teens took off.

Chapter 31

Witchaven Townhall

Timothee gagged when he smelled the warm wet sickening smell of Thorne's breath. To his horror the pink fleshy tongue of the troblin danced excitedly like a massive earth worm. He fought with all his might to break himself free but to no avail.

Looking up towards the ceiling he saw the white door for the staircase.

"I need to pull it open!" He realized. Focusing his gaze he shouted "Accio stairs!" and he heard a creak from the ceiling.

" Accio stairs!" Timothee shrieked, his head fully inside Thorne's mouth. The Troblin's tongue lathered his face and he shouted again, "ACCIO STAIRS!"

There was a tumultuous crash and Timothee's world was suddenly upside down, right side up and upside down again. He hit the wooden ground with a loud thud and a burning sensation radiated from his left wrist.

"Timothee? You groovy?" Theo groaned.

"Bien," Timothee moaned, rolling on his back. He felt fluid rushing to his left wrist.

Only a few feet away lay the troblin with the end of the ladder opened onto its' head. Thorne snored loudly and Timothee felt the floor boards shutter. A warm breeze swept in from the shattered window and he heard the howl of a werewolf.

"Is Vance out there?" He wondered.

Theo and Timothee helped each other up before getting to the wooden ladder and climbing in through the ceiling. The crawl space in the attic had a musty smell and it was impossible to see.

Theo casted, "Lumos" from his pen and illuminated rows of wooden beams and cobwebs in the crawl space. At the top of the latter was a door that was latched shut.

"The bell is just beyond this exit," Theo said, grabbing the latch and giving it a hard tug with his right hand.

The door creaked, moaned and bits of sediment fell onto their heads. Theo let out a loud grunt that rivaled the snoring troblin below before the latch swung ninety degrees and the small square door popped up.

They reached the top steps and onto the tall steeple which was the highest point in Witchaven. In the darkness they were surrounded by the tops of trees and rows of black shingled roofs. Down the street, Timothee saw a white glow where Daniel and Elawin were battling.

"This is it," Theo said, running his hand along the wide mouthed bell. It was suspended by a series of ropes and wooden planks and had a casted patterned band around the middle with the date 1768. The bell had a green patina from the years of heavy winters, spring storms and humid summers.

Theo held out his pen, "I'll see if I can cut this thing down. You check to make sure it doesn't land on anyone."

Timothee looked over the railing and saw the traffic circle. In the center of the circle was a ring of purple tulips and in the middle was the statue of the three cherubs. Their golden bronze wings glistened in the street lights.

Thorne's voice trumpeted from below, "RRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAA!"

Theo placed a hand on his head, "Oh great!"

"Stand back!" Timothee ordered and held his ringed hand towards the bell's support beam.

"What if it falls on someone!" Theo said.

"I'm counting on it! Now grab the wooden beam!" Timothee ordered as he hooked his arm around the small railing that wrapped the steeple, "REDUCTO!"

A wooden beam the size of a railroad tie splintered in the middle and both ends folded in like an accordion. The aged green bell let out a loud "Dong!" before dropping into the floor of the steeple and disappearing through the crawl space below. There were a terrific series of booms and another large "Dong!" as the bell fell onto Thorne's massive head. The troblin laid sprawled out for a second time as the massive bell rolled out of view.

"Look!" Timothee said. He pointed towards the large shattered windowsill directly below them where the green metal bell rolled out and onto the street, tolling away like the bells on a pinball machine. It bounced onto Main Street, crushed the garden of purple tulips and hit the statue of the Three Cherubs with a massive "Gong!"

The brass statue of the Three Cherubs shimmered green, red and blue and to their amazement the Auroras in the sky shimmered as well. They watched as the townsfolk below sleepily moved their heads and took a step. It was as if some unknown force had hit the play button and the pause button on life as the town once again fell back asleep. The colors on the statue faded and the Auroras continued to dance in the sky.

Timothee and Theo's head snapped to each other, "The statue!"

Chapter 32

This is the End

The high pitched whine of tattered silver twanged into the night air as a dining spoon hit the black pavement road. Daniel fell to one knee with his right hand firmly pressed over his side. Crimson blood flowed through his shaking fingers and he let out a strained grunt, "Come on Danny boy, we still got more in the tank."

"Foolish," Elawin whispered, her blue ice eyes glowing in the black dark of night. She held her rosewood wand at the tips of her fingers like a violinist holding his bow.

Closing his eyes, Daniel winced as he leaned over to grab his spoon. His hand missed on the first attempt and he nearly fell face first into the asphalt. His breathing was labored and the color on his face was starting to turn a sickly white. Using all the strength he could muster he slid his hand over the spoon and closed his finger around it. He slid the bowl of the spoon along the ground as he brought it to himself. His first attempt to stand failed and he collapsed into a sitting position with one leg tucked under the other.

"Shhhh," Elawin hushed. Her voice was as soothing as a warm bath, "Relax."

Her pearlescent fangs hung like ivory stalactites in her mouth. In a blur she was kneeling next to him. Her eyes rolling back ever so slightly at the smell of Daniel's blood, "It's easy, all you have to do is sleep."

Daniel's head was drawn back as a cold hand pulled on a tuft of his long brown hair. He was helpless to defend himself.

Elawin's cold breath against his neck sent an involuntary shutter down his spine. Looking at the street light above him, Daniel's vision went completely black, "This is the end."

Something hit Daniel with the force of a truck sending the wizard rolling along the road and coming to a stop a few feet away. His vision was restored, he looked where he had come from and saw a large black cloud of smoke. It was Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. Inside the cloud he heard the venomous hiss of Elawin.

A large werewolf with yellow eyes came bounding from the cloud towards Daniel. Gripping his spoon in his hand he held it up eyes wide and hand shaking.

"No, Daniel! He's with us!" Abigail shouted.

"Bloody hell, I thought I was done," Daniel muttered, dropping his spoon.

"You're still going to need that!" Archie said, grabbing the spoon and placing it back into his bloody hand. He turned to Abigail and shook his head, "He doesn't look good."

Abigail looked to Vance, "You think you can hold her off while we get him to Timothee's house?"

The werewolf nodded his head. Taking a step forward with his big black paw, he licked Abigail on the cheek before turning around and vaulting back into the cloud of darkness powder.

"Here we go," Archie strained as he and Abigail helped Daniel to his feet.

"If we cut through the forest we might lose her!" Abigail said.

Chapter 33

Standing Right in Front of You

"Reducto!" Theo yelled. A blue orb of light fired from the tip of his pen and ricocheted into the night sky. A field of green rippled over the statue before disappearing.

Theo turned to Timothee, "Maybe we try at the same time?"

"No," Timothee answered, "The enchantment is too strong for that. Daniel said we should try fire if the Reducto didn't work."

"What spell was that again?"

"Incendio," Timothee said, "You have to move your wand like this."

"Okay, got it!"

"On Three! One, two Three!"

The two teens held out their makeshift wands as they casted in unison, "Incendio!"

Two streams of flame shot out like dragons breath. The spell was so loud and so hot that it was hard for Timothee to hear anything but the roaring of the flame. The enchantment on the statue of the Three Cherubs turned a bright green letting out a high pitched scream like a steam whistle.

"Keep going!" Theo yelled but he couldn't even hear his own words.

The night sky lit up in intensity of beautiful colors of green, red and blue until the moon itself was lost in the light.

The metal in the statue creaked and groaned and started to sweat drops of red hot glowing bronze.

Timothee whipped his wand back and fired it forward roaring, "Draco Incendio Totalis!" and the flame coming from his rings turned from yellow and to purple. The scarlet ruby on his ring began to glow in the night.

The heat was so intense that it burned his hand and he had to look away for fear that hair would ignite at any moment. Theo looked over and noticed that the flecks of green in Timothee's eyes were also alight in his brown irises. There was something ancient and powerful in his look, like the very magic in his soul was emanating through him. His clothes started turning black at the edges charred from the intense heat.

The bronze trumpets wilted and the details in the three cherubs melted until they were nothing more than three featureless mounds. They looked more like dementors than cherubs and that is when it happened. It sounded as if a great cloth was being torn apart. The green glowing enchantment split down the middle and rip traveled straight towards the aurora in the sky. A great green blast exploded from the statue launching Timothee into the purple flower bed as a green wave washed over them and the rest of the town.

Timothee opened his eyes and looked at a black starless sky. A falling star streaked across the heavens and vanished before one by one the stars came back into the night sky. There were no longer any greens, reds or purples. No blues, pinks or oranges. Just a black background dotted with twinkling constellations. In the eastern sky, the first signs of sunrise were starting to show.

"We did it," Timothee whispered. Extending a hand, he placed it on the large copper-green bell that was next to them, "I can't believe we didn't see it."

"See what?" Theo asked.

"It was before us the whole time. The statue of the Three Cherubs never changed color, never formed a patina like we learned in Mr. Burnside's class. It was the enchantment that kept it bronze."

"It's the things standing right in front of you that are hardest to see," Theo muttered.

All at once the town of Witchaven woke up from their slumber. A police officer who was directing traffic blew his whistle and a woman and her dog took a few steps on their daily walk and stopped. They looked around in bewilderment, unsure of where the time had gone.

Timothee heard a small chirp next to his ear. Sitting up, he extended his hand and a small green and brown cricket climbed on it. Holding it up he watched it crawl around before letting out another chirp and in that second call, the entire night erupted in the sounds of cooing birds, chirping crickets and croaking bull frogs.

"Look!" Theo pointed, as a large canine dashed into the forest. A dark ball of smoke followed the large creature into the forest.

"We need to get to the others!" Timothee yelled.

Chapter 34

Mauling

"I'm just saying, that is pretty much a kiss," Archie explained.

"It was a lick on the cheek from a werewolf," Abigail said.

"And that's what people call dog kisses ergo Vance kissed you," Archie explained.

"I'm not getting into this," Abigail said, "We are being chased by a vampire."

"Wait, wait, wait! I need a moment!" Daniel begged.

"We can't stop!" Abigail ordered.

Daniel shook his head, "I need a second. I can't breathe."

"Okay, Just a second. Then we have to get moving again," Abigail said, lowering Daniel at the base of a white birch tree.

Archie's head was on high alert, looking left and right, "We can't stay long."

"Just go and get help, I'll wait here," Daniel pleaded. He leaned back against the tree and looked up towards the pre-dawn sky, "I failed you Oliver."

Abigail knelt down, "You didn't fail anyone. You tried your best and that's all anyone could ask for."

"She killed my brother and I couldn't avenge him," Daniel replied.

Abigail shook her head, "You're alive and that is what your bother would have wanted over any vengeance you could have sought out. He died so that you could live, not that you could spend the rest of your life plotting revenge or die in the pursuit of it. He wanted you to live."

Daniel closed his eyes and put more pressure on his bleeding side, "I don't know."

"I do," Abigail assured, "Now let's keep moving."

Helping Daniel to his feet they began to take a few steps when the summer night air was suddenly filled with the life of nature.

"Look!" Archie said, pointing towards the clear sky, "The auroras are gone!"

"They did it!" Abigail shouted gleefully.

"And it looks like morning is on its' way," Daniel added.

The sudden feeling of joy vanished as the sound of crashing trees came rushing towards them.

"You're mine!" Thistle roared, as he barreled through the forest towards them knocking over full grown trees like a bull dozer.

Abigail pulled out her key and held it out, "I'm really getting sick of this guy."

"REDUCIO!" A man's voice called out from the forest.

A blue orb hit the charging troblin in the chest but did not stop his stride. He came for them, shrinking smaller and smaller. This time running into a tree and spinning around rather than knocking it over. His base voice returned to its soprano pitch. It was only when Thistle had reached Archie, Abigail and Daniel, that he realized what had happened. Looking up at them, the troblin stopped dead in his tracks.

"Um… I…" Thistle stammered.

"What were you saying earlier?" Abigail asked suspiciously, "We are yours?"

"No, what I meant was that," The troblin stammered.

Abigail whipped her key back like a fishing pole and snapped it forward as she casted, "Eat slugs!"

The pink fleshy troblin turned a shade of green as a slimy black and brown spotted slug oozed from his mouth. He let out a horrified yelp and turned, running into the forest and disappearing into the endless field of birch trunks.

"And that's for Theo! You pointy eared weirdo!" Abigail shouted.

"You let him off easy," Daniel half chuckled half winced.

"Well if he ever comes back, he will get it worst," Abigail assured.

"That was a proper counter back there with the Reducio," Daniel said.

"I thought it was you," Abigail added.

"Hey guys," Archie whispered nervously. He pointed over towards a black figure that began to walk towards them.

Daniel grabbed his spoon and Abigail redirected her pen, "Who's there!"

"Lumos!" The dark figure called out, raising a wand high over his head.

"Mr. Redd!" Archie yelled in relief.

"Merlin's Beard," Daniel winced, "I nearly had a heart attack!"

"You're hurt, let me see," Samuel said. He pulled back Daniel's blood soaked hand and examined the wound, "What is going on? Where is Timothee?"

"He is back in town," Archie answered, "Him and Theo destroyed the curse on Witchaven."

"A curse?" Samuel said. He touched the point of his wand to Daniel's side.

"Ah!" Daniel cried and jerked away.

"Sit still," Samuel ordered and in one fluid motion slid his wand across the wound.

The skin pulled together seamlessly and except for the crimson blood all over his side, there was no sign that there had ever been a wound.

"Guys!" Timothee shouted, running towards them in the forest.

Samuel looked up from Daniel's side, "Oh thank Merlin!"

"Timothee!" Abigail and Archie shouted, jogging over to meet their friend.

There was a sudden flash of fur as Timothee was hit by Vance and tackled to the ground. The werewolf clamped on and shook his massive head viciously, shredding, tearing, ripping and snarling at the teen wizard. He thrashed him around violently as if he were a rag doll.

"No!" Samuel shouted, pulling up his wand and aiming it at the savage mauling.

"Vance no!" Abigail shouted.

"Samuel help!" Timothee cried, "He's killing me!"

Daniel held a hand over his mouth, "Bloody hell!"

Samuel whipped his wand back, but Archie lunged in the way of the spell, "Don't!"

"Get out of the way!" Samuel barked.

"No!" Archie shouted, "Timothee would never leave Theo behind!"

Just then, the werewolf let out a loud crying whimper and was hurled into the forest breaking limbs of trees as he flew.

Timothee floated to his feet covered in gashes, bites and claw marks. His neck and throat were eviscerated shreds of flesh but slowly the wounds began to heal. His complextion turned a ghostly white, his hair blackened and his eyes turned ice blue. It wasn't long before Elawin was standing before them.

"Redd," Elawin said coldly, "Where is the Stone of Morgana? The item promised to the Venetian!"

"We gave him everything," Samuel protested, "Go and ask him yourself."

"I did," Elawin hissed, "And what you gave him was nothing more than a fake!"

"Well that was what we found in Benedicts Collection. Who knows where the real stone is!"

"I've seen it. In Timothee's mind. The elf had it!" Elawin snarled. Her pearly white fangs glistening in the pre-dawn hours.

Archie looked to the horizon that was now a shade of pink.

"You mean Vert?" Samuel asked, "I haven't seen him since the Partée's died."

"Samuel!" Timothee shouted, as he ran towards the group. Theo was in tow right behind him with his pen clutched in his hand.

"Perfect!" Elawin whispered. Her eyes blazed like sapphires.

Chapter 35

A Promise

Elawin's rosewood wand whipped around over her head and fired forward a green orb.

Timothee pointed and screamed, "Watch out!"

Abigail held up her hands and casted, "Protego!"

The green spell hit the shield and vanished.

Daniel and Samuel simultaneously casted "Expelliarmus" sending red orbs of light toward the vampire, who blocked the spells like a fencer parrying an attacker's rapier.

Timothee held up his rings and casted, "Stupify!" while theo casted a leg locker curse. Abigail followed up with a spell of her own. Samuel and Daniel sent another volley of spells and Archie picked up a rock from the ground and threw it at Elawin.

The orbs of light came in from every angle and yet Elawin defended against them all. She moved blindingly fast as her wand blurred to the left and right sending one spell into the tree tops and another into the ground. She caught the red orb of light that was Samuel's spell with her wand and whipped it around her head like a lasso before launching it at Abigail.

Abigail was hit by the rebounded spell and it sent her skeleton key flipping end over end into the darkness of the forest.

Without looking, Elawin caught the stone that Archie had hurled and continued to fend off the other spells with her wand. Bringing the rock to her mouth, she whispered an incantation before throwing it back at the group of wizards. The stone grew into a boulder the size of a Volkswagen Beatle and sent everyone running for safety. The boulder crashed into the ground and kicked up a brown cloud of dirt.

Theo was the first to recover, pointing his pen and firing off another spell. Elawin's blue eye caught Theo over her shoulder and in one fluent motion she flipped over the incoming orb of light landing gracefully like a ballerina on one foot.

Elawin opened her hand and twirled the tip of her wand over her palm. There was a ripping sound within the soil as the roots of the birch trees tore from the ground and began to wrap themselves around Theo, binding him to a tree trunk. The terrified young wizard tried to fight the roots suffocating hug but was quickly overcome.

Turning her blue icy gaze to Daniel, she lashed her wand towards his feet and the tip of the wand elongated into a white whip. Pulling back on her rosewood wand Daniel flipped through the air, landed on his head, and fell unconscious.

Samuel dropped to one knee and placed a hand onto the ground and called out, "Tercomedentum!"

The soil shuddered and the earth under Elawin opened like a giant mouth swallowing her whole. The vampire hissed, screamed and clawed as she disappeared into the ground.

The forest fell quiet in the early dawn hours. The eastern sky was a hue of yellows and pinks while the western blacks and purples began to retreat over the horizon. The stars were vanishing one by one and the full moon was now sitting low in the southern sky.

Timothee's chest fired up in down in staccato breathes as he held his ringed hand outstretched in front of him.

"MMmmmmm!" Theo hummed from the bound roots. He was now wrapped like a mummy completely immobilized.

The ground directly behind Samuel erupted in a volcanic cloud of black earth soil. Samuel tried to swing around but Elawin was already on him. She hit him in the back with a brilliant orange spell and the older wizard fell helplessly to the ground.

"Hey you!" Abigail yelled, picking up a rock to hurl at Elawin. Archie had another rock in his hands and was ready to do the same.

Elawin made eye contact with the teens and they dropped the rocks. Their bodies became relaxed in a care free gaze and their heads tilted ever so lazily to one side. Timothee recognized the Imperius curse and knew that his friends were helpless to do anything.

Turning her frigid gaze to Timothee, she walked towards him with purpose. Timothee held up his rings and yelled, "Stupify!" and "Expelliarmus!" he even tried the curse of the bogies but the vampire batted them away with her hand as one would do an incessant fly.

She grabbed Timothee's wrist with her icy grip and jarred his hand to one side. Timothee's vision went white as the bones in his wrist made a loud crack! Unable to contain the oppressive pain, he cried out into the morning air.

"Very good!" Elawin roared, "Let him hear you."

"I don't," Timothee started but his words turned into more cries as she twisted his shattered wrist.

"Give it to me!" Elawin pressed wrenching the wrist even further causing Timothee to shriek.

"Get away from my family!" A high pitched voice demanded.

Timothee and Elawin turned to a small old stuffed brown teddy bear standing twenty feet away amongst the tall trees. He had stuffing coming out of one ear and his brown fur was dirty and matted.

"Ursa?" Timothee wheezed.

"Get away from my family!" The bear yelled again.

Elawin let go of Timothee's wrist and pointed her rosewood wand towards the stuffed bear. She slashed her wand through the air like a knife and Ursa exploded in a white ball of cotton and fabric.

"Ursa!" Timothee shouted.

Elawin turned back to Timothee, "Partée! This is the last time I will ask you!"

"No! This is the last time I will tell you! Get away from my family!" A voice demanded.

Timothee looked over to where Ursa had fallen and standing inside the remains of the stuffed animal was a house elf wearing a baby blue robe with a gold fleur-de-lis embroidered over the heart. The house elf snapped his fingers and a black bowler cap appeared. Tucking his ears back, he secured the cap to his head with his big green eyes a blaze just under the rim.

"Vert!" Timothee shouted.

Vert nodded, his chest puffing up.

"The elf!" Elawin snapped.

Vert dug into the pocket of his robes and held out a blue shimmering stone about the size of a snitch. Inside were all the colors in the spectrum of blue.

Elawin took flight towards Vert with her clawed hand drawn forward. Her blue eyes were hungry with desire and her pearl protracted fangs dripped with lust. She was only feet away when a single golden drop of sun peered over the eastern horizon sending a yellow jet of light through the birch tree forest. The beam found the perfect gap between the trees and hit Elawin in the hand.

The vampire fell back screaming as she held up her clawed hand which was now venting steam and looked as if part of it had turned to stone.

Elawin let out a frustrated scream and got to her feet. The ray of light acted like a barrier between the elf and the vampire. Spinning around towards Timothee, her face was no longer the beautiful mask she had wrapped herself in but gaunt and starved with a missing a nose and ears that were long and pointed.

Timothee's brown and green eyes watched as a second ray of light hit Elawin directly on the right side of her face. Her flesh steamed, cracked and turned to stone that crept over her right eye turning it from blue to white marble.

Timothee heard Elawin's voice in his head, "I'll be back!"

"I'll be waiting," Timothee answered.

There was a disapperating "crack" in the forest and the vampire vanished in the rising sun.

Timothee fell back onto the forest floor. He heard birds chirping and an owl hooting in the distance. Light footsteps approached him but he was too tired, too exhausted to turn his head.

The small elf walked over towards the stunned teen and bowed, "Monsieur Timothee Partée, allow me to officially introduce myself I am…"

"Vert," Timothee said.

Vert lifted his bowed head, "Wi."

"I saw you in a memory recently. You came to me when I was an infant. Have you been in there the entire time?"

"Since the day they left us," Vert answered.

"And the stone?" Timothee asked.

"Your father once spoke of a weapon used against witches and wizards. I don't know how it works but he had hid it in a necklace. I freed the stone and kept it against your father's wishes to give it to Samuel. I felt that such a weapon would put anyone in danger if others knew they possessed it. I realized that the only option was for me to hide. Hide from the ministry, hide from the world, even hide from you. To become Ursa I could keep my promise to never leave your side and to try and keep you safe. I failed you." Vert explained bowing his head.

Timothee placed a finger under Vert's chin and lifted it, "You didn't fail me Vert. I am alive because of you. You did what you had to and I will forever be in you debt for giving up so much and sticking by my side."

"For family," Vert replied.

"For Family,"Timothee repeated, "What should we do with the stone?"

Vert gazed at the stone in his hands before his big green eyes looked up at Timothee, "I will do what I should have done a long time ago and give it to the Ministry Le France."

"There is an Auror there. His name is Louis Geroux, he can be trusted," Timothee said.

Vert nodded and tucked the stone back in his baby blue robes.

"HMMMMMmmmmm!" Called out from one of the trees.

"Theo!" Timothee yelled, getting to his feet.

Timothee tore away the tightly bound black roots that were wrapped around Theo's entire body while Vert helped Abigail and Archie recover from the Imperius curse. The adults were next and it wasn't long before they were standing together in the early morning sun.

"Well I guess that is it," Daniel said, placing a hand on Timothee's shoulder, "If that pointy toothed blood sucker comes around again, you be sure to find me."

Timothee nodded, "Wi."

Taking a step back from the group, Daniel pulled out his spoon from his trench coat.

"Hey," Abigail shouted taking a step forward.

Daniel paused.

"Live. He wanted you to live," She said.

"Live," Daniel whispered and disapperated.

Archie fixed the glasses on his face before kneeling down next to Vert, "So this is what a house elf looks like?"

"Vert is a free elf," Vert replied.

Archie smiled.

Samuel knelt down to Vert's eye level, "If you'd like Vert, Mara and I would be honored if you lived with us in our home. Friends like you aren't just friends, you are family and like you said all those years ago, family sticks together."

Vert jumped towards Samuel with his arms wide and gave him a hug.

A twig snapped off in the distance and they turned to see a tall muscular teenager with red hair. He wasn't wearing any clothes and chose to hide behind the trunk of a tree in order to keep his modesty.

Samuel stood, took off his professors robes and held them up. Touching them with the tip of his wand, they floated over to Vance and slipped over his head. With his head lowered, he walked over.

"So did we do it?" Vance asked, "Did we save the town?"

Theo and Abigail walked over and placed a hand on Vance's back welcoming him into the group, "We did it."

Samuel extended a hand, "Samuel Redd and this is Vert."

Vance extended his hand and gave it a shake, "Vance Marlett."

"Welcome to the family Vance!" Vert said excitedly.

Vance cracked a half smile before repeating, "Family."

Chapter 36

An Old Friend

It was a humid summer day in June and the students of Witchaven High School were making their way down Main Street even though it was only noon. Flowers were in bloom, the birds sang and butterflies jumped from flower to flower drinking in the sweet nectar.

"I think I aced this one," Archie said, strolling merrily in his bronze t-shirt with blue jeans.

"You said that about the last final exam," Theo laughed. He ran a hand through his black hair before pulling out his favorite pen from his pocket. He gave it a whirl in between his fingers, "What about you Timothee?"

"I'm not too sure. I don't think Mr. Applegate ever forgave me after that first day in school," Timothee answered. He was wearing his favorite butterscotch t-shirt with black pants.

Abigail tossed a ball into the air and caught it in her black and green leather mitt, "I just hope I passed Latin so I can play in states next month."

"You better!" Vance said, "We need our number one closer if we want to have a chance at winning states."

Theo stopped in his tracks and pointed to the new statue that was being lowered into place, "Look at that! You think we will have to melt that one too?"

Timothee cracked a half smile.

In the town's circle a large crane lowered a statue of a revolutionary soldier with his musket at rest on his shoulder and a Tricorne hat atop his head. The statue was as shiny as a new penny and would reflect rays of sun as it slowly swayed on the metal cable. Two men wearing construction helmets directed the crane operator as he lowered the statue into place yelling, "hold" and "lower."

"I'll have my eye on it, that's for sure," Archie promised, "Make sure it ages nice and green."

"My dad told me they think it was a lightning bolt," Theo explained, "The mayor claims the bolt hit the bell tower, traveled through the colonial façade and grounded itself through the statue of the Three Cherubs."

"Well a bolt of lightning is hotter than the surface of the sun," Archie said.

Vance turned, "Is that true?"

Archie nodded, "Around fifty thousand degrees Fahrenheit where as the sun is only about ten thousand degrees Fahrenheit. Actually, the lightning doesn't have a temperature at all. It's the resistance that causes the temperature to…"

"Oh god here he goes again," Abigail sighed.

"The brain," Theo laughed.

Timothee rested a hand on Archie's shoulder, "The smartest kid in school."

Archie smiled.

They walked past the traffic circle where students talked about their final exams and made their way to Precious Boutiques. A bell on the door rang when they entered and sitting behind the desk was Kevin. The radio was playing a popular disco tune and in Kevin's hands was a comic book titled, The Mummy's Tomb. Looking up from the comic, he smiled, "Hey you delinquents!"

"Hi Kevin!" They replied in unison.

Kevin disappeared behind his desk and reappeared with a box of sweets from pumpkin pasties to chocolate frogs and everything in between.

"So Timothee, what are you doing this summer?" Kevin asked, "Are you going to stick around here? Maybe blow up a few more statues?"

"Melt," Theo corrected as he popped a Bertie Bots Every Flavor Bean into his mouth, "We melted it and it saved your butt."

"Hey Theo!" Abigail said.

Theo turned and saw Abigail holding a pack of jellied slugs. Turning away he shuttered.

"What does he have against Jellied Slugs? I love those," Vance said.

"I'll have to tell you later," Abigail smiled.

Timothee looked into the box of sweets, "I think I am going to head back to Paris for the summer and visit my grandmother, I haven't seen her since Christmas. Maybe I'll visit some old friends who are in wizarding school and see how their life is going. Were you able to get a pack of butter beer?"

Kevin pointed one finger in the sky. He bent over and disappeared from sight before reappearing with the sweet butterscotch sodas in hand, "I almost forgot. One six pack of butter beer."

"Thanks a lot!" Timothee said digging into his pocket, "How much do I owe you?"

Kevin waived him off, "On the house for saving my butt and everyone else's as well."

They stuck around for another hour and chatted it up with Kevin before parting ways with him and Vance. They walked back the way they had come before taking a right turn and disappearing into the birch tree forest.

"I'm gonna miss it here," Timothee sighed making a complete turn. Many of the trees in the immediate area were covered in splotches of different colors from deflected spells. Some trees were missing limbs and a path of downed trees where Thistle had torn through the forest let in a large hole of light from the sun high above.

"We'll be here when you get back," Theo promised.

There was a high pitched screech from above the trees before a large grey owl swopped in with a package gripped in its' talons. Timothee held out his hands and the owl dropped the brown wrapped package before flying off into the green canopy.

"What is it?" Abigail asked.

"I don't know," Timothee answered before tearing away the wrapping paper on the small rectangular box. Timothee ran his finger over a gold embossed design of a large cursive "O" with a star on both ends and a wand cutting across the top. Sliding back the cover of the wooden box, Timothee found a folded note and a newspaper clipping inside:

Dear Monsieur Partée,

It was brought to my attention from a close friend of mine that you were subject to a most unfortunate misjudgment. We live in dark times and while I am not able to overturn your current condition of exile, I do believe I can help prepare you for the long road ahead. I retrieved your Phoenix core from your grandmother which was auspiciously intact. While ebony may have suited you in the past, it was a wand maker's expert opinion that a Phoenix core bound in holly will serve you better going forward. I am happy to tell you that your wand has been fully repaired and with a little ministry owl restructuring, all trace infractions will from now on be redirected to the crater of Mt. Etna instead of the minister's desk.

Au Revoir,

Jean-Louis Bastion

P.S. – The attached article has been printed on the front page of every magical newspaper in France. It is of my belief that it should free you of any predicaments of the "nosferatu" veriety.

Timothee examined the newspaper clipping in his hand. It was a moving picture of an auror holding up a snitch sized stone and the article read:

**Auror Geroux Returns Family Heirloom**

In a recent ministry raid on June 1st 1977, Auror Louis Geroux discovered a stolen sapphire in the possession of occamy egg smugglers. Upon further investigation it was revealed that the stone was indeed a long lost heirloom of the extinct magical pure blood family, Pierre-Reston. The last Pierre-Reston was Tristan Pierre-Reston (1678 – 1776) and while there are no living family members, the Pierre-Reston estate is still managed by the Ministry Le France. It is the Ministry's decision to place the sapphire in the Pierre-Reston family vault at the Imperial Goblin Bank of Paris.

Timothee smiled and handed the article to the others.

Archie adjusted his glasses, read the article and looked up, "If I didn't know any better I would say that is the stone that Elawin was looking for."

Abigail pointed to the blue gem in the Auror's hand, "That's not a sapphire at all!"

"It's the Stone of Morgana," Timothee agreed.

"So by placing the stone in the vault, Elawin won't be interested in Timothee anymore." Theo realized.

"Excatly," Archie said, "If Elawin wants the stone she will know exactly where to look. And trust me breaking into a magical bank doesn't sound too easy, especially if it is guarded by goblins."

"So you're free?" Abigail said, her eyes lighting up.

"As free as I can be I guess," Timothee replied, "I'll have to buy Vert a whole barrel of butter beer for this."

Abigail laughed, "And maybe a few pumpkin pasties!"

Timothe looked into the wooden box and carefully pulled out his 11 inch holly wand and held it in his hand. The grip felt different and yet there was an inner completeness that set over him.

"Go on Timothee. Give it a whirl!" Theo encouraged excitedly.

Gripping his wand in his left hand, he pointed it up in the air and gave it a small flick. There was a subtle rustling in the tree tops before all at once the forest around them started to heal. The different color stains on the birch trunks vanished and were replaced with fresh white birch bark. The shattered limbs grew whole again and even the trees that had been trampled by Thistle were rearing up and sprouting lush green leaves. Finally, a small green seedling sprung up in the large pit where the oak tree stump had lay.

"Wow," Archie said at the fresh new forest around them.

Theo patted Timothee on the back, "Feels good doesn't it?"

Abigail cracked a half smile and simply said, "Neat."

Timothee slowly turned as the forest became its' old self again and grinned, "It's just like my father said, magic should be beautiful."

The End

Epilogue

The Arch

1025 C.E.

The golden sun burned low on the western horizon turning the burning desert sand orange in the tilting light. Four massive pharaohs carved in stone sat upon their mighty thrones surveying the remains of a once mighty empire. Their expressions were stoic and yet the magnitude of their likeness was a testament to their eternal greatness.

Ibn Almustakshaf covered his face as he fought the sand laden wind that blew into his eyes. His white robes danced in the gusts as he got closer and closer to a massive stone door carved in between the grand statue of the four kings. He looked down at a papyrus map with drawings of pyramids, temples and gods. His finger traced a long trail on the map that ended at a black arch with the moon and the sun eclipsed over head. Looking at the door, his hand reached into his robes and he pulled out a black ebony wand accented it with gold.

"Alohomora!" He casted and the large russet stone doors ground open as bits of sand streamed down from the ceiling.

The tomb was cool inside and dimly lit as small creeping things scurried from the entrance light. Lifting his wand high over his head Ibn Almustakshaf illuminated the tomb with a simple whisper of "Lumos."

Hieroglyphs and ancient Egyptian paintings lined the walls as fresh as the day the tomb had been sealed. They were painted gold with gods, pharaohs and all sorts of animals that lived on the Nile.

Ibn walked through corridor that led to a stairwell that went deep into the earth. The tomb grew colder and colder until his breath shown in the dark. It wasn't until he reached the bottom stair when he began to hear it. A faint call in the dark.

Entering the annex, he found himself in a room of full of treasures. There were chariots decorated with gold, statues made from black onyx and gems that glistened in the light of Ibn's wand. Finely crafted furniture and chests filled with valuables meant to go with the pharaoh into the afterlife remained untouched.

The faint chants of a large crowd grew louder as Ibn exited the annex and entered the burial chamber.,

"Ra, Ra, Ra, Ra," the crowd called endlessly drawing Ibn deeper and deeper.

He entered the burial chamber where a large gold sarcophagus lay in the center of the room. It too was made of gold which was considered the flesh of the gods. It was a perfect likeness of the mummified king that once roamed the earth. The eyes were life like and painted white while the head was adorned with a crown of blue and gold. Clutched in his crossed hands were a crook and flail, a sign of his royalty.

"Ra! Ra! Ra! Ra!"

The four walls of the burial chamber depicted the life of the pharaoh entombed. Ibn looked around with his illuminated wand wondering to himself, "Where is it?"

There were two dimensional drawings of wives, sons and daughters on the eastern wall while the western wall depicted hunting expeditions of lions and Nile crocodiles. On the southern wall was a large portrait of two gods both with the body of a man and the head of a peregrine falcon. In their right hands they had a large staff and in their left they carried the ANKH or the key of life. Where they differed was the large orb drawn over their head.

"Ra, the sun god," Ibn Almustakshaf said pointing to the god with the orange orb. He moved his wand to the other god with the white orb drawn above its' head, "Khonsu the god of the moon."

Taking a step back he scanned the edges of the wall for any seams but could not find one. Reaching into his white robes he pulled out the papyrus map and studied it before flipping it over onto the other side. There was a small subset of hieroglyphs drawn in the bottom corner and Ibn ran his finger along them saying "When the sun and the moon kiss the games will begin. Eternal glory awaits all those champions who enter."

Ibn folded the map and tucked it back into his robes before calling out, "Eclipse."

He watched as the two orbs drawn over the gods came together and merged as one. There was sudden rumble in the ground as the wall began to lift into the ceiling revealing a hidden room.

"RA! RA! RA! RA!"

The crowd's cheers were so loud that it felt like Ibn was in a stadium filled with people. Inside this hidden chamber was a black stone arch with glyphs written along its borders. A shimmering liquid danced within the arch and distorted the view on the other side. Ibn approached the arch wearily as a warm breeze came through blowing bits of sand in at the base of the entrance. Ibn couldn't help but touch the rippling surface. It felt like a fine mist as it ran through his fingers.

Drums thundered on the other side and great big horns trumpeted a regal anthem causing the crowd to fall silent and from this silence came a booming voice, "Ra a' Khonsu mene lene Kanf'ka. Sup bounteth alshem rakneff!"

The crowd erupted and the chants grew to a defeaning level of "RA! RA! RA! RA!"

Ibn Almustakshaf casted "nox!" before placing his wand into his robes. Taking one last deep breathe he walked into the arch disappeared.


End file.
